


Halves

by pikachumaniac



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fairy Tale Elements, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-04-28 05:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14442462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikachumaniac/pseuds/pikachumaniac
Summary: The man walking towards him had sandy brown hair that was swept up, and his silver glasses emphasized his elegant features. Gladio might have gone so far as to call the man beautiful, if not for the green eyes that were a little too bright, and the ears that came to a distinct point, and the fact that he was no man at all but-“Astrals,” he said hoarsely. “You’re afae.”In which humans and fae have been at war for millennia, which is why Gladiolus was so surprised to find himself being rescued by the enemy. To be fair, Ignis was not like any fairy creature he was ever warned of.It doesn’t take him very long at all to fall in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beginning Notes: I love fantasy and fairy tales, so once I got this little idea stuck in my head, I had to write it (at which point it promptly mutated into a multi-chapter, soul-sucking monster. _I regret nothing_ ).

Gladiolus Amicitia woke up to the ringing of chimes.

The sound was beautiful, a gentle, melodic hum that reminded of a cool breeze and his sister’s laugh. It immediately put him on edge – neither of those things belonged in the house in the middle of town, not when the constant presence of too many people stifled the air, and not when Iris had left a week ago to escape the memory of their dead father. He would have done the same, except someone had to put their father’s affairs in order, and the least he could do for his sister was take on that unpleasant task.

None of that, of course, explained the chimes. Instinctively, he flung his hand out to grab for the knife he kept next to his bed ( _a good soldier is always prepared_ , as his father had always said), only to slam said hand into a wall that was _definitely not supposed to be there_. The impact reverberated through the room and down to his very bones, and with a pained grunt he drew his hand back towards him, staring at a wall made of wood rather than the cold stone of his ancestral manor.

He was still staring at the wall when someone said, “You need to keep calm, if you do not want to open your wound again.” The voice had a peculiar accent, which heightened its soothing tone. Gladio was familiar with that tone; he used it all the time on wild animals, right before he slaughtered them.

If that wasn’t enough, the words seemed to trigger a blinding pain in his gut, and he gritted his teeth as the memory of what happened came flooding back. A wild garulessa, separated from her young and driven half-mad by the loss, determined to take her anger out on anyone with the misfortune of crossing her path. Ordinarily, Gladio would have been able to take her out easily, but his own losses still weighed heavily on him and he had been just a step too slow, and the next thing he had known was a sharp agony in his side.

He should have died then, and he was sure he would when the beast had turned back and charged at him. He couldn’t do anything but brace himself, his greatsword lying just out of arm’s reach and his hands soaked in blood as they tried to keep his own guts in. At the last second, he had closed his eyes and apologized to Iris for leaving her so soon after their father had… only for his apology to be cut off by the garulessa’s scream.

When he had opened his eyes, the beast was on her side, a long spear driven clear through her convulsing body. But what had really caught his attention was the man standing between them, the long, lean line of his back to Gladio and slender fingers curled around twin daggers.

 _“There, there,”_ the man had murmured kindly as he kneeled next to the garulessa, and he was still making those soft, comforting sounds when he drew one of those daggers across her throat. Gladio, whose every breath was already awash in his own blood, had choked at this newest outpouring, and the last thing he had seen before passing out was the man turning to stare at him with bright green eyes.

Those same eyes were now fixed on him, and it did not escape Gladio’s notice that the man was using the same tone he’d used right before slaying the garulessa. It was not the only thing he noticed. The man walking towards him had sandy brown hair that was swept up, and his silver glasses emphasized his elegant features. Gladio might have gone so far as to call the man beautiful, if not for the green eyes that were a little _too_ bright, and the ears that came to a distinct point, and the fact that he was _no man at all_ but-

“Fuck,” he said hoarsely. “You’re a _fae_.”

The fae didn’t even blink at being found out, although the soothing tone was quickly replaced by a decidedly patronizing one. “Well, at least we can rest assured that your eyes are working.”

Gladio struggled to sit up so that he could assume a defensive position, a task easier said than done given the pain in his side and the fact that not so long ago, he’d been close to dying. Shit, given how he’d been able to inspect his own insides, there was no way he _should_ be alive, unless….

_Unless the fae had saved him._

He immediately dismissed that possibility. The fae had been humanity’s enemy for no less than two thousand years, and everyone knew that those creatures of magic were as cruel as they were corrupt. His father had warned him of their kind, and then his father had _died_ on the battlefield to protect his family, another victim of the violence between man and monster. That violence had intensified as of late, ever since the new Chancellor had taken over, introducing strange new technologies to deploy against the fae. Even in their town, far from the heaviest fighting, there were increasing talks about conscription, which had sent Iris into a panic – they had already lost their father to the fae, and she was not prepared for the possibility of losing Gladio so soon as well. It didn’t matter that he had trained for years, preparing to do his part in the desperate battle to save the world from magic’s scourge; she knew, better than most people did, that all the training in the world could not guarantee one’s safety.

As aptly demonstrated by the fact that at this very moment, face-to-face with the enemy, he barely had the strength to raise a hand and snarl, “Stay the hell away from me.”

The fae stopped, his own hand mere inches away from Gladio’s wound, which seemed to pulse in agonized anticipation. He was so close that Gladio could see gold flecks in his eyes, and drown in the rich, complex aroma of dark coffee that seemed to cling to every inch of the creature’s skin. Lips pressed thin, the fae pulled back to stare at him, before asking, “Exactly what do you think I intend to do to you?”

“Is this supposed to be a trick?” he growled, as if the answer to that wasn’t obvious. “You’re a fae.”

“Yes, I heard you the first time around,” the fae replied with a touch of impatience, one eyebrow raised as the creature looked down at him. “Although you are only half-right, with respect to what I am.”

Gladio stared at him, not quite able to understand what the fae was saying. Was he seriously suggesting that he was only… no, that was _impossible_. “Like hell you are.”

Despite the vehemence of his denial, Gladio couldn’t stop the nagging doubt in the back of his mind. He knew such doubts were ridiculous because everyone knew that humans and fae didn’t interact, except when they were trying to kill each other. He couldn’t imagine any human tolerating a fae long enough to… to do what was necessary to bring a half-breed child into the world.

Then again, everyone also knew that a fae would rather kill a human than speak to him, yet here they were. Talking. Almost civilly, even. Although that might have more to do with the pain of the near-dead experience than anything on the fae’s end.

The fae sighed in soft exasperation. “I think I would know better than you what my own heritage is, but believe what you want. It is of no concern of mine.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Did you have somewhere else to be?” was the tart response, before the fae gestured lazily at the door. “Because if so, you’re welcome to leave whenever you wish. Although I doubt you’ll get far with your intestines barely staying inside your body.”

His intestines agreed whole-heartedly with that sentiment, but Gladio wasn’t about to be fooled by the fae’s apathetic attitude. It had to be an act, as the creatures were well-known for being liars, so he decided to test just how far the fae was willing to take things.

“Fine,” he said as he stood, at which point the agony in his side multiplied a mere thousand-fold. He had completely blacked out before he had finished toppling to the ground.

The next thing he knew, he was being peeled off the soft rug by deceptively slim arms, and could hear the fae muttering, “Honestly, do none of you humans have any self-preservation? One would think your mortality would motivate you to take better care of yourself.”

He tried to fight back, but his body was far less interested in pulling away from the comforting warmth of the creature helping him back onto the bed than standing up for itself, and then it was a lost cause entirely the moment he was tucked back into the cocoon of warm blankets. The fae’s expression was a mix of irritation and bemusement as he stood back, arms crossed as he asked, “Now will you listen to me and stay in bed?”

Already Gladio’s eyelids felt heavy, his ill-advised rebellion having sapped what little energy he had left. It didn’t stop him from saying, “It depends on what you want from me.”

The fae sighed again. It reminded him of the sigh Iris made when she was getting a headache because he was being stubborn. “What makes you think I want anything from you?”

“Because you’re a fae.” Because that’s what their kind did, manipulating and killing and _taking_ , and this one pretending to be kind wasn’t going to change any of that.

It wasn’t going to change the fact that his father’s blood was on their hands.

“That’s three times you’ve said that, but that is still simply a fact, not an explanation.” Before he could object, the fae’s hand was on his forehead, and the touch is so gentle that it would have lulled the most vigilant warrior into a false sense of security.  “Just go to sleep. Maybe you will wake up more willing to listen to reason.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” he replied, trying to keep his eyes open because the sudden wave of exhaustion had to be the fae using magic against him.

But Gladio was too weak to resist its seductive pull, and the last thing he heard before drifting off was a grim chuckle. “That’s the first thing you’ve said all day that has made any sense, human.”

* * *

Gladio woke again to the ringing of chimes.

Like before, he didn’t allow himself to be pacified by it, despite how the pleasant sound seemed to ease the pain of his wound. Instead, after warily confirming that he was alone, he sat up slowly and tried to examine his surroundings.

The last time around, he had noticed that this place – whatever it was – was much more open than his own home, which had been a sprawling labyrinth of rooms set off from one another by forbidding stone walls and heavy wood doors. The walls which separated the outside from indoors here, in contrast, seemed barely more than a formality given the large windows that were set in them. A wind chime hung in the window not too far from him, made of crystal and elaborately twisted metal, and beyond that, the forest and freedom.

Gladio was far more interested in his immediate surroundings though. There were walls inside too, but they were poor barriers given how each had a wide opening that led to the rest of the structure. Through one, he could see a table and what seemed to be an immaculately organized kitchen; through the other, the back of a comfortable sofa with neatly folded blankets draped over the top. But what really caught his attention was a glimpse of the shelves on the other side of the sofa, which seemed to take up the entire wall from floor to ceiling, and were crammed full of books.

All in all, it was nothing like any prison he had imagined. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought he was in the fae’s home. But that made little sense, unless he was stupid enough to actually believe that the fae had saved him, and for no reason other than _because_.

The reminder of his near-death experience finally forced Gladio to inspect one last thing. Slowly, he lifted the blankets. His shirt had long been removed, and bandages were wrapped neatly around his torso. He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to confront what was beneath them, before carefully peeling them away.

His stomach dropped at what he saw; the wound was closed, that much was clear, but not by a row of neat stitches. Apparently that was too much to ask of his captor; instead, the wound looked like it had been seared shut by flame.

“It was the best I could do.”

Gladio turned to find the fae watching him. He had no idea where the fae had come from, the creature’s footsteps silent even on the hardwood floor. He didn’t say anything as the fae approached him again, hands held up as if trying to placate a dangerous beast, which was ridiculous given their relative positions of power. “I know you have little reason to trust me, but you were bleeding rather badly when I found you, and I couldn’t think of any other way.”

Even in the presence of the enemy, he couldn’t quite contain the sharp bark of laughter at _that_ understatement. The wound was ugly, and he knew the likelihood of him dying from infection had increased exponentially, but he was still alive. He might even survive long enough for the fae to get what he wanted, whatever that was. “You could have left me to die. Isn’t that what you were supposed to do?”

“And what would you know about what I am _supposed_ to do?” the fae asked dryly. “Or is this because you are such an expert on my kind?”

Despite the fact that he was completely at the creature’s mercy, he glared at him. “Everyone knows that fae-”

The fae cut him off with a dismissive wave of a hand, clearly having given up on pretending to appease him. “Ah, _everyone_. Well, if I had known you were relying on the knowledge of such an esteemed scholar, then I would never have thought to question your breadth of knowledge.”

“Then what am I doing here?” he demanded, frustrated. “What do you want? To kill me?”

The fae was much better at hiding it, but he was clearly also a bit aggravated by this conversation. “Why would I do that after saving you? You just said it yourself, I could have easily left you to bleed out if all I wanted was for you to die.”

Gladio seized on that, as well as the fact that the creature was still avoiding the real question. “But you do want something. What is it? Torture?”

Those eerily green eyes stared at him over the top of his glasses. It was an expression that seemed perfectly designed to make him feel small and _very_ stupid, especially when the fae said, “You really think I would waste my limited resources to heal you, just to torture you? Are all humans this absurd?”

“You can’t get information from the dead,” he pointed out.

The fae had the nerve to look amused by that. “And what information are _you_ supposed to have?”

That was entirely beside the point, obviously. And the fae still hadn’t answered his question. “Look, just tell me what you want so we can get this over with, alright?”

“Why should I?” the fae replied. “You’ve clearly decided that nothing I say can be trusted, so why should I bother trying to explain myself if you will refuse to believe me anyway?”

It was hard to respond to that when the creature was right, but that wasn’t going to stop Gladio from trying. “Can you blame me, considering what you are?”

The fae cocked his head slightly, the amusement wiped away. “What I am,” he repeated slowly. “Do you mean the part of me that is fae, or the part of me that is human?” He didn’t wait for an answer though, leaning back against the wall a respectable distance away, his arms crossed. “Have you ever considered judging me based on my actions, rather than what I am? Or are you so set in your world view that you refuse to consider that not everything ‘everyone’ claims to know is true?”

“I know that my father is _dead_ because of your kind,” he snapped, the fae’s platitudes nothing short of enraging. “And you want me to _trust_ you?”

A long silence followed his angry demand, although if he had been stupid enough to expect something as human as shame from the creature, he would have been disappointed. Luckily, he wasn’t, and he just watched the fae silently. The creature’s lithe form was still – he didn’t even seem to _blink_ – and his attention barely seemed to be on Gladio, despite ostensibly looking in his direction. It was as if his mind was hundreds of miles away, although Gladio had no idea where it could possibly be.

“That is… regrettable,” the fae finally said, and despite the clipped formality of the words, he actually sounded like he meant it. “Given your losses, I suppose your reluctance to trust my intentions is understandable. Still, you cannot blame all of us for your loss, just as I did not let the deaths of my loved ones at human hands keep me from rescuing you.”

The fae’s voice was soft and non-judgmental, yet somehow it made Gladio feel ashamed. Or maybe it was because the more he spoke to the creature, the harder it was becoming to deny what seemed so obvious. He should have died, but he had not, and the only logical (if not quite understandable) explanation for that was that the fae had saved him. And not only had he saved him, he had brought him to his home and even given up his own bed, and for what? The fae was right that he had no information to offer, and while his lineage demanded respect from the rest of the town, he wasn’t so important that he could be considered any sort of useful leverage in the overall war.

As for him personally, well. He had been a dutiful son, but now his father was dead. He had been a good brother, but now Iris could barely stand to look at him, so afraid she was of losing him to a conflict that was unlikely to end in their lifetime. He had taken on his family obligations (whatever that was supposed to be), yet he had ended up in the forest to escape those exact responsibilities. And it was there that he had ended up nearly being killed by a creature he should have been able to easily take down, forcing him to rely on the inexplicable kindness of an enemy who owed him nothing.

Gladio still didn’t trust the fae or his intentions, but he was also starting to get that he didn’t exactly have a choice but to if he ever wanted to get back to Iris. He wasn’t about to disappoint her by dying without putting a fight, although admittedly, the fae didn’t seem very interested in fighting him at all.

“Can I get a name?” He didn’t know who was more surprised by the request, but they both did their best to hide it, with the fae’s eyebrows rising only slightly and Gladio adding gruffly, “Yours, specifically.”

The fae continued to look at him for a long while, until he could have sworn he was sweating from the intensity of the creature’s stare. And just as he was becoming convinced that the fae would not be conversing with him any further, the fae said, “Ignis.”

“Ignis,” Gladio repeated, the name lingering on his lips. He had been expecting something flighty or ostentatious, something suited to the nature of magic users. But this name fit the fae well, with his careful words and wry disposition. The fae – _Ignis_ – appeared expectant, and it took him an embarrassingly long amount of time to understand why. “Gladiolus. But you can just call me Gladio.”

“You can call me Ignis,” the fae replied, but Gladio swore he could see the slightest smirk curled on those fine lips. “And now that the formal pleasantries have been exchanged, you should rest again. I’ll have dinner ready when you wake up.”

There was a part of him that still wanted to defy the fae, but it quickly lost out to the practical side of him. Whatever Ignis’s aim was, it seemed better to play along if it meant regaining his strength.

“Alright,” he said, and felt a slight thrill run through his veins when Ignis looked pleased by his ready agreement. As he laid back into the bed, he tried to tell himself that the rush of excitement was only because his plan (if he could even call it that) was working, and had absolutely nothing to do with how damn attractive the fae was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I will make it clear to you: fae or human, you are all the same to me. I care little for who wins this war. My allegiance is not with the fae, as you presume, nor with the humans, as others believe. My loyalties lie only with those who have earned it. All that matters to me is protecting the ones I care for, and the rest of the world can burn as long as they remain safe.”_

“It’s not poisoned.”

Gladio immediately stopped staring at the bowl of broth that the fae had placed on the nightstand next to him, trying not to feel irrationally guilty. Ignis, seated on a chair just far enough away to preserve the illusion of personal space, seemed as calm and collected as always, yet somehow that made the serene statement all the more accusatory.

“It’s not that,” he said, but he couldn’t really explain beyond that because he didn’t know why he was hesitating in the first place. It definitely wasn’t the food; the broth smelled heavenly, but not so overwhelming as to make his empty stomach heave at the thought of eating. And despite his continued suspicions about the fae, he hadn’t seriously considered the possibility of poison, especially when Ignis had a bowl of his own on a tray, which in turn was balanced rather precariously on the fae’s long legs.

As if to emphasize that point, the fae took an exaggeratedly slow sip of the broth. With anyone else – anyone _human_ , anyway – it would have looked ridiculous, but of course Ignis made it look nothing short of refined. Gladio wondered if it was because of what he was, or if he was just that type of person. Creature. _Fae_. Astrals, he was still having trouble processing any of this. He’d always assumed that any encounter he had with a fae would end in bloodshed, and while their brief association had certainly started with plenty of that, here he was, having a meal with one of the monsters who had killed his father and feeling bad about possibly hurting the creature’s feelings. They weren’t even supposed to _have_ feelings.

Unless….

“Is it because you’re part human?” he asked, before common sense could stop him – namely by throttling him into silence.

The fae went still, before setting down the spoon that had been halfway raised when Gladio had spoken. “So you believe me now?”

He didn’t know if he would go that far, but he didn’t think Ignis was lying either. Not about that anyway, since it would be a strange thing to lie about. Why pretend to be a half-breed, when nobody would believe it?

Still. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?” he replied, although he wasn’t sure it actually did. “Why you’re doing this.”

“Interesting,” Ignis said, although his carefully blank expression strongly suggested that the fae thought he was an idiot, but was simply too polite to say it out loud. “You think I saved you because I’m half-human? Because humanity is such a paradigm of virtue, naturally.”

Before Gladio could claim that that wasn’t what he had meant (except it was, wasn’t it?), Ignis spared him the need to explain himself when the fae continued, “But I suppose your question isn’t entirely surprising, seeing how mankind does not have a monopoly on having a rather backwards view of the supposed enemy.” Ignis tilted his head ever so slightly, as those unnaturally green eyes stared at him with an intensity that would have been unnerving even if they were human. “Did you know that it is forbidden by fae law for a fae to engage in… a personal relationship with a human?”

“No,” he answered, not sure where this was supposed to be going.

“An ancient law, dating back to the start of the war,” the fae said, his tone similar to that of the private tutors who had been hired to instruct Gladio in all manner of things, including the war that Ignis referred to. That said, he had never been so riveted by any of those teachers as he was now, unable as he was to look away from the fae. “Hardly necessary, considering how most fae have little interest in such things, but those who did found the price to be rather steep.”

The words may have been delicately phrased, but this time, Gladio knew exactly where this was going. “So your parents….”

“Dead, as required by the law.” Ignis leaned back in his chair, by all appearances indifferent to the morbid tale he was spinning. “From what I have been told, my father did try to plead for my mother, pointing out that as a human, she should not be judged under fae law. A futile effort, of course. Fae have a rather uncompromising view when it comes to rules, and in any case as a human, what did she matter to them? They killed her quickly, at least.”

He didn’t have to ask about how the fae’s father had fared; the implication was more than clear. That didn’t stop him from asking the other obvious question though. “What about you then? Why were you allowed to live?”

Ignis’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Luckily for me, there are no laws forbidding my existence. Which might not have been enough to spare most in my situation regardless, but my uncle had the king’s ear. He couldn’t save his brother, but he was able to intervene on my behalf, and I was permitted to live, as I have been so kindly reminded of by the many who are unable to look past the part of me that is human.”

Gladio was silent, not really sure what he was supposed to say. What he even _could_ say, as he tried to imagine a young child, newly orphaned – had he even been permitted to grieve, before being dragged into a world where he would be shunned by those who surrounded him? He felt like he should offer his sympathies, but how could he, when he had treated Ignis just like the other fae apparently had – as someone whose very existence warranted suspicion, simply because of what he was. Besides, he seriously doubted that Ignis was looking for sympathy anyway, given how the fae had already turned his attention back to his dinner, face wiped clean of any expression.

This time though, Gladio knew that it was just a ruse. There was no way anyone would be prepared to move on just like that after revealing something so painfully personal to a complete stranger. And sure, maybe he had only known the fae for a day (if even that), but he could already tell that Ignis was not the type to do anything without five thousand reasons behind it. Although getting him to reveal what those reasons were was a completely different story, given the fae’s talent for evading his questions.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked bluntly, leaving no room for such evasions even as he tried not to sound too demanding. He hadn’t earned the right to demand anything of the fae, but he was certain Ignis wanted him to ask anyway, even if he wasn’t sure why.

Ignis looked back up at him, and if he’d thought that those eyes were unsettling before, it was nothing compared to now. “Because,” he said patiently, “this will become very tiresome very quickly if you insist on questioning everything I do based solely on what I am. So I will make it clear to you: fae or human, you are all the same to me. I care little for who wins this war. My allegiance is not with the fae who executed my parents, as you presume, nor with the humans who slaughtered my uncle, as others believe. My loyalties lie only with those who have earned it. All that matters to me is protecting the ones I care for, and the rest of the world can burn as long as they remain safe.”

As an Amicitia, Gladio had always had a privileged life, but never one free of danger. Even putting aside the war, his family had a duty to protect the rest of the town, and he had spent a good deal of his life in the forest, hunting wild animals who threatened the safety of the townspeople. But none of that, not even the wild garulessa who had nearly gored him to death, compared to the threat of the creature sitting not too far away from him. Looking at him now, Gladio wouldn’t be surprised if Ignis not only let the world burn to protect those who mattered to him, but struck the match and lit the whole damn thing on fire if that was what was necessary. And considering how he’d had to straddle that thin line between human and fae, and deal with the worst that both had to offer, was it any surprise that he would be this way?

Gladio wasn’t too proud to admit that it was more than a little terrifying. He also wasn’t too blind to see that the fae was absolutely breathtaking like this.

Ignis took his silence for assent, and the fae moved to stand even though his bowl was still half-full. Gladio couldn’t look away, not even when the creature drew close and a lifetime of being told to hate magic and those who wielded it automatically flared up within him. But nothing could have ever prepared him for something like Ignis, balancing his dinner tray in one hand while the other reached for the bowl that still lay on the bedside table, untouched.

“Your dinner is getting cold,” the fae said quietly. Before Gladio could protest, flames danced across the fae’s fingers, casting a strange glow in the darkening room as the sun started to set. If he didn’t know better, he would think that the gesture was a deliberate reminder to them both that Ignis was half-fae, and that while he didn’t have any specific hostility towards humans, he was still something else entirely. Long fingers pressed against the bowl, warming it and its contents, yet careful to keep the flames away from the decidedly more flammable table. Was that what it had been like, when Ignis had sealed his wound shut with fire?

Then Ignis was switching the two bowls, placing Gladio’s on the tray before handing it to him. It was a miracle he didn’t drop it, unprepared as he was, but all those years of training his reflexes had to be good for something as he managed to ease the tray onto his lap without spilling a drop. He could feel the heat through the tray and the blankets that still covered him, and obediently accepted the clean spoon that was handed to him.

Under the fae’s watchful gaze, he took his first mouthful. As expected from the tantalizing aroma, the broth was delicious, and very, _very_ familiar. “… is this the garulessa you killed?”

“Of course,” Ignis replied, picking up the other dish. “I wasn’t about to let good meat go to waste.”

Gladio laughed. It hurt like hell, the motion tearing at his barely held-together injury, but Ignis’s momentary surprise made the pain worth it, seeing how the fae didn’t seem like the sort to be easily taken off-guard. It was completely different from that dangerous, confident creature who would not hesitate to do whatever was necessary to protect those he cared for, and made him look… well, for lack of a better word, _human_.

He kept that thought to himself, since Ignis would probably be insulted by it. Even now, the fae was recovering quickly from his shock, his expression closing off and words unfailingly polite as he said, “When you’re finished, just leave the bowl there and go back to sleep. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Sure thing,” he replied, but he might as well have been talking to the air, considering how quickly Ignis had walked away from him.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that the fae was trying to run away from him.

* * *

Three days later, he was absolutely certain that was _exactly_ what Ignis was trying to do.

Technically speaking, the fae hadn’t actually disappeared, even if he hadn’t seen the guy around once. It was the exact opposite really, considering the meticulously-prepared meals that awaited him every time he woke up, or the smaller yet equally thoughtful gestures like the blanket that had been tossed over him when the temperature had abruptly dropped one night. No, Ignis was clearly around, looking after him, but had deliberately chosen to make himself scarce while Gladio recovered.

And he was recovering, far more quickly than he would have thought possible given that he had nearly bled out and then had his wound burned closed, a risky proposition even when not performed in the middle of a forest. He was, however, no closer to understanding why the fae was doing any of this for him. Maybe they weren’t enemies, at least not in Ignis’s mind, but they weren’t exactly friends either. They hadn’t been _anything_ when the fae had rescued him, and while Ignis had apparently gotten a week’s worth of meat from their encounter, he’d also taken on a useless mouth to feed. Gladio was pretty sure that the latter canceled out any benefits of the former, especially when the fae apparently didn’t even feel comfortable enough to stay in his own home whenever Gladio was awake.

It was all very confusing. _Ignis_ was confusing. The fae claimed to be loyal, and while Gladio didn’t doubt that, who exactly was he supposed to be loyal to when he lived alone in a forest, away from both human and fae? There was that uncle who had appealed to the king, but he’d been clear that his uncle was dead, a victim (and since when had Gladio thought of any fae as a victim?) of the same war that had claimed Clarus Amicitia. Maybe he had been driven out by the other fae when his uncle had died, but considering the fierce protectiveness with which he had spoken, there had to be someone still breathing to inspire such passionate devotion.

And while Gladio had, according to Iris, a high opinion of himself, he seriously doubted that Ignis was talking about _him_ in that speech of his. In fact, considering the way he had treated the fae when he had first woken up, it would have made more sense for Ignis to kill him, rather than help him. After all, wasn’t he exactly the type of threat to the fae’s loved ones that should be taken out?

The better he got, the more he realized how little sense any of this made. Unfortunately, the one person who could explain it was Ignis, who seemed far more interested in avoiding him than explaining much of anything when it came to why Gladio was here or still breathing.

Well. Ignis was about to find out that when it came to getting answers, no one could be as stubborn as an Amicitia.

* * *

“You really don’t have _any_ sense of self-preservation, do you?”

Gladio would have protested if he wasn’t once again face-down on the floor, which wasn’t a comfortable position even in the best of circumstances. At least he had landed on a rug, which was made of a material finer than anything in the Amicitia manor, softening the blow. It hadn’t stopped him from passing out though, which was why he hadn’t been able to crawl back to the bed before the fae had found him somewhere between the bedroom and gods know where.

“What were you thinking?” Ignis demanded, making no move to help Gladio up. Judging by the annoyance audible even under that accent of his, it was probably taking all of the fae’s patience not to hit him in the head, which was probably fair considering how Gladio had nearly undone all of Ignis’s hard work in putting him back together in the first place. “Or perhaps you weren’t thinking at all?”

Apparently Ignis had a sarcastic streak to him when he was upset.

“Had to use the toilet,” he replied, as if the fae hadn’t been emptying his bedpan too. Astrals, the fae really was some sort of saint, probably on the level of the Oracle herself.

“If you wanted to get up, you could have just asked,” Ignis observed coldly, and Gladio could have sworn the temperature dropped by a good ten degrees.

“And how was I supposed to do that, when you’re never around?”

Make that twenty degrees; it was a minor miracle he didn’t freeze into a statue right then and there. “I wanted to give you time to rest,” Ignis explained, before adding a bit unnecessarily, “so that you could heal.”

“Yeah, well, I’m all healed up now.”

“Clearly,” Ignis said dryly. “That certainly explains why you are currently collapsed on my favorite rug. What if you had torn your wound open again? Do you know how difficult it will be to get blood out of that, especially _human_ blood?”

Finally, Gladio found the strength to turn his head just enough to look up at the fae. Ignis’s lips were tight and his eyes alight with barely suppressed exasperation, making him seem less like a magical creature, and more like an irate school teacher who didn’t understand why he had to spend half his day chasing down unruly students. “Couldn’t you just use your magic for that?”

Ignis no longer looked like he wanted to hit him, so much as smother him with a pillow, recovery be damned (although at least it would be less bloody). Still, he managed to control himself enough to say with some semblance of calm, “No, I cannot _magic_ it away. Even if magic did work like that, which I can assure you it doesn’t, fae have different types of magic. Some are gifted in the healing arts, while others in battle. My magic is that of the latter, and a pale shadow to most other fae at that.”

“So that’s why you had to burn my wound shut.”

“Yes,” the fae said, before glowering at him. “Although I’m starting to regret it.”

Gladio regretted it a bit too, as he finally tried to push himself up to his feet. It was frustrating, how something as simple as standing could suddenly be so difficult, but that was what happened when one was nearly eviscerated by a wild beast. He flinched, when warm hands took hold of his shoulders, and he was suddenly glad he couldn’t see Ignis’s expression at the rejection, small as it was. He hadn’t meant to do that, but it was too late to take it back now, and the fae was good-mannered enough not to comment on it as he helped guide him up. For the second time, Gladio found himself leaning heavily against Ignis; despite being at least a head taller than the fae, Ignis didn’t seem to have any trouble supporting his weight as they slowly made their way back to the bedroom.

He waited until he was back on the bed to ask, “Why did you do it then?”

“This again?” Ignis replied, but he didn’t sound too upset. Probably because Gladio clearly wasn’t asking out of suspicion or disbelief, but simple curiosity. “Would you have preferred me not to?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said as he shifted back to a lying position, every muscle complaining loudly at the strain he had put them through from that short walk. Even then, he was smart enough not to say what he was really thinking, that Ignis probably shouldn’t have helped him in the first place. Instead, he pointed out, “But you got to admit that it doesn’t make much sense. Not many people would go out of the way like you did to save some complete stranger.”

“I’m not most people.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed quietly. It was pretty obvious that part fae or not, Ignis was a hell of a lot better than most people he knew, which was why it was so shitty for him to say, “Look, you want me to trust you, right?”

The fae looked like he had a lot to say about that, but settled instead for saying coolly, “That is more for your benefit than mine, but continue.”

Gladio took in a deep breath, which was a lot harder than it should have been. “I don’t think you’re trying to use me or anything, alright? I believe you on that. But I just… I don’t get it, alright? Even if we weren’t enemies-” which they technically were… “-you still didn’t have to save me.”

“Believe me, I don’t make a habit of it.”

“But you still did,” he persisted. “So why?”

He could practically see the gears turning in the fae’s mind, debating whether there was any point in telling him to drop it or just giving in. It didn’t take long for Ignis to come to the same conclusion that most people who dealt with him did: Gladio was stubborn, and while he tried not to abuse it except when it was important (and he was pretty sure this qualified), he wouldn’t let things go until he was satisfied. That probably explained the loud sigh, as Ignis rubbed his temples, before giving into the inevitable. “I didn’t have to save you, but the same applies to you as well.”

Gladio blinked. “I don’t follow.”

“No, I suppose not. I doubt you even remember it.” Ignis hesitated, before deciding that he had said too much to stop now. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you in the forest. The first time I saw you, you were binding the wounds of an anak calf.”

He did actually remember that, although he definitely had not known he was being watched. It was troubling that he hadn’t noticed, even if Ignis had proven himself to be quite stealthy, but now was not the time to worry about that. “Let me guess. You thought I was a… friend to the forest or something?”

“As if the forest needs humans as _friends_ , what with all the destruction you cause,” Ignis scoffed at the very idea, crossing his arms. “No, I thought you were an idiot.”

Gladio was too busy processing the first implied slight to notice the second _explicit_ insult, until an awkward silence had passed. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” he finally said.

The fae smiled grimly, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm on his arm. “That calf was hardly going to appreciate your gesture, and likely grew up to be a right little monster who trampled many innocent people to death.”

“So you would have left it to die?” He was really having trouble following this train of thought right now. Maybe this was Ignis’s way of getting revenge on him for pushing him to explain himself in the first place.

“I would have put it out of its misery,” Ignis corrected. He paused, before musing, “Also, anak calves have a very lovely flavor. Far less gamey than once they have grown.”

Gladio had no idea if the fae was joking or not, but he couldn’t help but laugh in complete disbelief. It even hurt a little less than the last time. “You’re saying that you decided to help me because I didn’t make an anak calf into dinner?”

“What I’m saying is that I assumed you were either stupid or kind.” Another pause. “Or rather, both. The two are not mutually exclusive.”

“Right,” he said, like he actually understood what was going on in Ignis’s brain. “And that meant I was worth saving?”

By this point, he wasn’t really expecting an answer. He didn’t want to think that the fae was lying to him, now that he had finally come to understand him better, but he hadn’t expected this conversation to go this way either. Maybe fae really were just different from humans when it came to reasons, so that something that was completely ridiculous to one made perfect sense to the other.

Or maybe Ignis wasn’t quite as sane as he made himself out to be.

The look that the fae gave him though, was not that of someone who was irrational. “Kindness it not as common in this world as it should be,” Ignis said simply, and that was when Gladio realized that it was the look of someone who was tired of pretending the world was fine when it clearly was not. “It’s worth protecting, when one actually manages to find it.”

It was odd. Gladio had never thought of himself as being particularly kind, at least not when compared to Iris. He did his best, given his responsibilities, but kindness wasn’t one of the things that he was trained to do. Not that it was frowned upon, but it wasn’t something that was well-regarded either, when compared to the skills necessary to wage war.

But apparently, it had been enough to give his life enough meaning for the fae to save him. And that was really saying something, given that Ignis more than anyone had no reason to trust a complete stranger, after the suspicion he had been treated with all of his life simply because of what he was.

Of course, he didn’t think that was all there was to it. If it was, he didn’t think Ignis would be so reluctant to talk about it in the first place, as if it was some dark secret. But he had pressed the fae enough already, and stubborn as he was, he also knew when it was time to back off. This was definitely one of those times, as he had already gotten far more than he was entitled to.

But there was one more thing he needed to say, and he knew better than to put it off again in case the fae decided to disappear again.

“Thanks,” he said, “for everything you’ve done. I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for you. And I should have said it sooner, and I know it’s probably not much, but… thank you.”

“Probably because you were too busy trying to figure out my ulterior motive,” Ignis reminded him, but without any real venom. “Still, you’re welcome. Now do try to get some sleep, and stop being so foolish.”

“But isn’t that why you saved me?” he asked, not quite able to keep himself from grinning.

“I really should have let you die in the forest,” Ignis grumbled, but then he was smiling – _truly_ smiling – and it was quite possibly the most beautiful thing Gladio had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure I’m happy with this chapter because it feels like it’s both moving too fast and too slow, but hopefully my constant reworking of it over the past week made it better, rather than more tortured. I also hesitated putting so much of Ignis’s backstory in the first scene, since it was actually planned for several chapters down the road. In the end, I decided to go for it because the conversation flowed pretty naturally in that direction, and I wanted to give Gladio a reason to move past his hostility ~~so that they could hurry up and fall in love already~~ to avoid being too repetitive.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Gladio was not a religious man, but he was certain this was the closest anyone had come to witnessing divinity, the day he saw Ignis taking in the sunrise. The fae’s eyes were closed, his breaths slow and steady, as the sunlight curled around his hands before dancing up his arms, making his skin glow with a radiance that was surely not of this earth._

“Shit. That’s a lot of weapons.”

Ignis hummed, a soft, contemplative sound, before asking, “Should you really be up, Gladio?”

He snorted. As if the fae hadn’t been actively encouraging him to get up and move around, starting with asking him to join him for dinner at the kitchen table a few nights back. Gladio had never been so grateful to be sitting in a chair, but that was the thing about near-death experiences – it made one appreciate all the things in life that would otherwise be taken for granted, like breathing without debilitating amounts of pain or walking on his own two legs.

Granted, he hadn’t _quite_ managed the latter, requiring the assistance of a gentle hand on the small of his back. He tried not to think too hard about how his body had unconsciously tried to follow the warmth of Ignis’s fingers as they had pulled away from him, just as he now tried not to stare too obviously at the elegant curve of the fae’s neck. Instead, he pretended to focus on the long line of weapons before him, each gleaming and in top fighting condition. “You know how to use all of those?”

“No, I just make a habit of collecting dangerous weapons for decoration,” Ignis replied, and although the fae hadn’t turned to look at him, he could easily imagine his smile, as sharp and dangerous as the array of weapons before them. “Is there something I can help you with?”

He laughed uneasily, “Actually, I was hoping I could help you out for a change.” It seemed the least he could do, given everything that the fae had done for him, including feeding him, changing his bandages, and in general _keeping him alive_.

If he was being more selfish, he might also have admitted that he was just tired of being in bed all the time. Theoretically, he knew that being gored by a wild beast usually required some recovery time, but Gladio had never been good at being idle, and the long days of mandatory bed rest had been starting to drive him insane, especially now that he could actually stay awake for more than an hour at a time. And while Ignis hadn’t pulled another disappearing act since finding him valiantly trying to bleed all over the fae’s favorite rug, he couldn’t exactly expect the guy to be entertaining him all the time, on top of everything else that he was already doing.

So of course his brilliant solution was to try and offer his services to the fae, who looked rather skeptical by the proposal. The skepticism was probably deserved, given his general uselessness so far.

“Hmm,” was all Ignis said. “So you decided to follow me to a shed?”

“I thought this was where you kept your gardening tools.”

Ignis finally turned to look at him, not bothering to hide his amusement. “I find it hard to believe you’ve ever gardened in your life.”

Gladio grimaced at the truth of that statement. In his defense, it wasn’t as if living in the middle of the town was conducive to gardening; the manor may have been one of the largest buildings there, but plants didn’t do well in stone settings. But the implication, whether intended or not, was there was more than just that; as an Amicitia, Gladio had never wanted for anything, having wealth and servants to take care of all his everyday needs. Not that his father had allowed him to forget his duties to both the town and humanity in general, but that didn’t change the fact that those commonplace tasks like cooking, cleaning, and _gardening_ were all things he had never had to worry about. It was the complete opposite of the fae, who clearly did everything for himself, and now for Gladio as well. And unlike the town, Gladio couldn’t exactly offer protection when Ignis was clearly more than capable of defending himself.

“Still,” Ignis said kindly, interrupting his train of thought but not his feelings of inadequacy, “your offer is generous, but you really should focus on resting.”

“I’ve rested enough,” he replied, a bit more curtly than he had intended. At least Ignis didn’t look too offended. “Daggers and polearms, huh? Interesting combination. Most people prefer to stick to either close or far range. Different fighting styles, and all that.”

Ignis shrugged, the gesture too careless to be sincere. “I like to cover all my bases.”

“You seem the sort.” The fae was clearly the type who would plan each and every day with meticulous detail, down to the last minute, which really begged the question of why he was _here_ , in the forest. While the guy didn’t exactly seem… unhappy, it didn’t seem to fit him either, this solitary lifestyle where the biggest concern was where the next meal came from. He couldn’t imagine Ignis being satisfied by something so simple, when he was clearly capable of so much more.

He wanted to ask about that, but for all of Ignis’s less than flattering remarks about his lack of self-preservation, Gladio knew this wasn’t the right time. Hell, there might never be a right time, and he was just going to have to live with that as he returned his attention back to the display. He’d trained in both types of weapons, of course, although his preference had always been with the greatsword. And speaking of that… “Where’s my sword?”

“In the forest, unless a sabertusk made off with it. I doubt it though; it is not really their style.” Despite the lightness of his words, the fae couldn’t quite look him in the eye.

“You just left it there?” he demanded.

Ignis glared at him from over his glasses. “It was hard enough dragging your dead weight through the woods, without the additional burden of your highly impractical weapon.”

But Gladio could hear the defensiveness in the words even beneath the self-righteousness, and he knew that he didn’t have to point out the obvious. That after doing whatever he had done to save him, Ignis had gone _back_ , to harvest a week’s worth of garulessa meat (and he would know, having become thoroughly sick of garulessa despite the many creative ways the fae had of cooking it). And even then, he’d left the greatsword in the forest. The sword that had not just been a family heirloom, but was the one his _father_ had wielded, up to the day he had died. The army had returned it, along with his corpse, but an Amicitia was never meant to be buried with that weapon. Instead, it would be passed on to the next generation, to be used in defense against all that was evil in the world.

That evil, of course, being the fae.

Before he could even think to control himself, Gladio felt a surge of anger. It was the anger that he had been fighting to keep back, yet still felt the undercurrent of every time he looked at Ignis and saw the point of those ears, and the eyes that were too green to be human. Because even though Ignis didn’t seem to harbor any resentment against humans in general (or more accurately, he seemed to resent them both equally), that didn’t change the fact that he was still part-fae, and it couldn’t change the fact that Gladio had spent an entire lifetime learning to hate his kind.

He didn’t want to feel this way. In fact, it was a major reason why he couldn’t lay in bed all day, where such dark thoughts would eat away at him with nothing to distract him from them. Because he knew that Ignis deserved better, after the risk the fae had taken by saving him due to his supposed _kindness_. He wanted to prove himself worthy of the faith placed in him, to accept that the fae weren’t just what he had been told. But at times like these, it was hard to forget that not hating Ignis felt like a betrayal not just of his people, but of his _father_ , who was the best man he had ever known and who had died standing up to the enemy. And if the fae was not that, like he had been told time and time again, then didn’t that mean his father had died for nothing?

“You’re angry,” the fae observed quietly, which might have been the damn understatement of the year.

Having his own emotions articulated to him like he was a child should have made him even angrier. Surprisingly, it didn’t. Whether it was the soothing effect of that calm, lilting tone or some nefarious magic, or simply the fact that Ignis understood what was going on in that head of his… whatever it was, it was enough to make the anger vaporize as quickly as it had come.

“Yeah,” he admitted as he unclenched his fists, his nails leaving white indents in the palms of his hands. “Sorry.”

Ignis was polite enough not to point out how inadequate his brusque apology was, and honest enough not to try and bullshit him by telling him that it was okay to be mad when it definitely wasn’t. Because from the fae’s perspective, leaving the greatsword behind was nothing less than a necessary precaution, and for good reason too considering how hostile Gladio had been when he had first woken up. Even though he could barely sit up, let alone wield a weapon, he would have attacked Ignis if he could have. Ignis had the right to protect himself, and besides, it wasn’t as if there was any way for the fae to have known what the greatsword meant to him, that it was his family’s legacy.

But the fae _was_ perceptive enough to know exactly what he needed, which was why he found himself staring cross-eyed at a spear that was being offered to him.

“If you’re well enough for gardening, perhaps a quick spar instead?” Ignis said lightly. “I assume you know how to use this.”

The weapon that was being handed to him was clearly a practice weapon with its blunted edge, but holding it made his blood race… although not nearly as much as the slight hint of a taunt in the fae’s words, just enough to put some fire in his belly as he looked back up at Ignis. Still, he had to ask, “You serious?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” the fae replied, and his lazy smirk might have sent that fire shooting straight down to _other_ places. “Besides, some physical activity would probably be good for you. We wouldn’t want those muscles of yours atrophying, now would we?”

* * *

“Perhaps you would have preferred the gardening,” the fae said, showing no signs of exertion from their battle. If it could even be called that, given how it had taken Ignis less than thirty seconds to disarm him and have him flat on his ass. _Best two out of three?_ he had asked, and the fae had readily agreed even when it became three out of five, four out of seven, and five out of eight, with each consecutive match seeming to be over in even less time.

It was humiliating, but all he could do was laugh as he lay in the grass. Ignis probably had a point, but damn if this didn’t feel good, even though he should have spent more time stretching and his ancestors were probably weeping in shame over how quickly he had been taken down. He knew what the fae was doing, of course, giving him a physical outlet to deal with the pent-up aggression and confusion that had been building up, setting him on edge and making him hostile at the slightest provocation.

And damn if it hadn’t worked like a charm; he felt more alive than he had since he’d first woken up, and the physical exhaustion made it so that all he could do was appreciate the sight of Ignis peering down at him, the glasses slipping down ever so slightly and that slight, wry smile tugging at his lips.

He had also enjoyed the sight of the fae fighting, the easy grace with which he had avoided every attack before he had used his own spear to knock Gladio’s weapon from his clumsy hands, before sweeping his legs out from under him. It had been breathtaking, and he could only wonder what Ignis looked like when he was _really_ fighting, not holding back like he clearly was so as not to injure Gladio too badly, although his pride had definitely taken a beating.

Not that he minded, given the display he had gotten to see.

“Damn, Iggy,” he chuckled, as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “You’re really something.”

“… Iggy?”

He looked up to find the fae looking at him in actual bewilderment. Hell, he might have even gone so far as to describe that stunned expression as _gawking_ , if Ignis wasn’t too sophisticated for that sort of thing. Just as he was probably too sophisticated to be called _Iggy_ , which was… what he had just done. _Shit_.

“Uh,” he said finally, scratching his head awkwardly. “Sorry about that. Not a fan of nicknames, huh?”

“No, I…” Ignis still looked like he was trying to get over his surprise, which was a pretty endearing sight, especially for someone who had just spent the past few minutes wiping the floor with Gladio’s last shreds of dignity. “It’s… it’s just been a while, that’s all.”

Gladio eyed him. “You don’t get much socialization out here, do you?”

“I don’t mind,” was the decided non-response, as Ignis finally looked away, busying himself with picking up the spear that Gladio had dropped like a green trainee. _Never drop your weapon_ , his father had told him. _Never drop your guard_.

Right now, it was the fae’s guard that was up, as if that strange answer actually explained anything. But even if the guy was being honest, Gladio found that he minded a lot more than he probably should. Whatever Ignis’s life was, it was definitely complicated, and he didn’t really have the right to judge. It wasn’t any of his business what made the fae happy, except that the guy had saved his life, so shouldn’t he try to do something? He didn’t really know what that something was though, but at the very least he didn’t want to make things any worse, so he said awkwardly, “If you don’t like it-”

“I don’t mind,” Ignis repeated, and this time, it sounded like he actually meant it. “I just wasn’t expecting it from you. But it’s fine, truly.”

Even though the guy was still studiously avoiding his gaze, there was the slightest flush to the fae’s skin, and Gladio suddenly wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch those fine cheekbones. But unfortunately, he never got the chance, as Ignis cleared his throat and said, “You should go wash up. I’ll have lunch ready in an hour, and then you should probably get back in bed.”

That was frankly the last thing he wanted, but he knew he wasn’t going to win this battle. For one thing, the fae was probably right, given that his lungs and his side felt like they were burning, and breathing was proving to be a lot more difficult than he remembered it being not so long ago. For another, when it came to making sure that he was taking care of himself, Ignis was a lot like Iris, except that he hadn’t yet resorted to sitting on Gladio like she had when he’d tried to literally fight through a flu that had laid out half the town.

Although now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he would mind if Ignis resorted to such extreme measures to keep him in bed.

He was _definitely_ keeping that thought to himself, as he saluted the fae with a lazy wave. “Whatever you say, _Iggy_.”

* * *

A few nights later, Gladio found himself sitting at the kitchen table, Ignis’s back to him as the fae put the finishing touches on dinner. It was as strange as it was becoming familiar, this odd picture of domesticity that he had found himself in. And that was what occupied most of their days, since even though the fae didn’t insist that he stay in bed all the time anymore, that didn’t mean he could spend all of his time training like he was used to… not with that still-healing gut wound to contend with. While he was able to distract himself some of the time with the basic stretches that he had learned so many years ago, as well as the occasional sparring match, that still left a lot of empty hours with nothing pressing to do.

Ignis had given him books, having caught the way he’d stared longingly at the bookshelves. And while he read them, he could never quite focus on them, as he kept one eye out on the fae, ever vigilant of Ignis’s every action.

It was hard to trust Ignis, but increasingly impossible not to. Not when he spent so much time watching the fae, starting from when he found Ignis sitting in the kitchen each morning, thin fingers wrapped around his first (or possibly fifth) cup of coffee, and ending with him drifting to sleep while the fae stretched out on the sofa, absorbed in a book of his own. Ignis’s life in the forest was quiet, and while Gladio had never thought of himself that way, he’d somehow found himself fitting in with a disturbing ease. And it was all the more disturbing when he remembered that not so long ago, he could never have imagined any fae so casually exposing its back to him like this, let alone inviting him into its life, at least not without the very real risk that he would use that momentary weakness to strike the creature down.

Not that Ignis was in any way weak, or even vulnerable in this position. Putting aside the sheer number of knives the fae had within arm’s reach (Gladio had never so regretted asking why anyone would need that many different types of knives, which had led to a three-hour long lecture of what each one was for; towards the end, he had only managed to stay awake by focusing on Ignis’s lips, rather than the words coming out of his mouth), Ignis had proven several times over that he was no pushover when it came to the battlefield, even if he chose not to be a part of this war. Gladio’s body could definitely attest to the fae’s aptitude, as he was sure he hadn’t gained this many bruises since he was a raw recruit.

As if on cue, the fae turned towards him, a steaming plate in each hand. “Feeling alright?” he asked politely, looking Gladio over with that piercing gaze of his. “You didn’t push yourself too far this time, did you?”

“Nah,” he lied casually, ignoring how his muscles shrieked in open revolt as dinner was set in front of him. “How about you?”

“Me?” Ignis was clearly entertained by his misplaced concern. “I believe you were the one who was knocked flat on his back six times.”

“Five.”

“Six,” Ignis corrected because Astrals forbid the fae take mercy on him by being _inaccurate_ about what happened. Also, it had only taken him two days to realize that the guy could be a right bastard, never quite letting him forget how thoroughly the fae had destroyed him. “Still, you are improving.”

Sure, if by “improving” he meant that it had taken him an entire minute to force Gladio into surrendering, rather than the usual thirty seconds. Which to be fair, was more than he could have realistically expected given that he had nearly died not so long ago, and couldn’t really expect to win a battle against a vengeful kitten, let alone a half-fae who was clearly more than competent in all the weapons he had on display. It was amazing he could last as long as he did, and he had no doubt it was all because of Ignis.

And he didn’t even mean how the fae was still holding back, although he probably still was. Because despite Ignis’s protestations about not having any healing magic, Gladio was convinced that was – to put it politely – a load of shit. Even with the best medical attention the empire had to offer, he shouldn’t have recovered this quickly, and he doubted that some stretching exercises and ego-destroying sparring matches would explain his progress. He was starting to suspect it had something to do with the food, as he took a bite of the perfectly-prepared bulette shank, and felt that small but unmistakable surge of energy flow through him. It was subtle enough that he had been able to write it off at the beginning, but now there was no confusing it for anything other than magic, although it didn’t seem to affect the fae at all as he consulted a small notebook. Was it because it was simply normal to Ignis, or was he really that good of an actor? The jury was definitely out on that one.

“What do you have there?” he asked. It was probably rude to try and read the notebook from where he was sitting, although he couldn’t exactly read much; not only had he not mastered the art of reading words that were upside down, but it was all handwritten, and the small, cramped lettering was difficult to interpret under the best of circumstances.

Ignis didn’t respond. By this point, the fae was comfortable enough to pointedly ignore questions that he didn’t want to answer, and Gladio was practical enough to let it go if it didn’t really matter that much anyway. The notebook seemed to be that thing for both of them, so he was surprised when the fae flipped a page, and said, “It’s a book of recipes.”

“Recipes, huh?” he said. “Looks like you got a lot of them. You really like to cook, huh?”

“Not in particular,” Ignis replied. “Truth be told, I get more satisfaction from people’s enjoyment of my food, rather than the actual act of cooking.”

He blinked at the fae, surprised by that small but unquestionably personal admission. It also underscored how odd Ignis’s living arrangement was, and Gladio wondered again what the guy was doing here. But he knew that asking would not only lead to no answers, it would probably make things more awkward between them, just as he was starting to get used to their unexpectedly easy rapport. He didn’t want to risk that yet, so he just offered casually, “I could taste test them for you.”

He expected a polite rejection, or for Ignis to point out that he was already doing that, but the fae just smiled. “Perhaps. There is one recipe that I have been trying to perfect, but after nearly sixty-odd years, I still haven’t quite managed to get the hang of it.”

Gladio dropped his fork, along with the piece of bulette still skewered on it. It landed on the table, sending breadcrumbs flying everywhere and earning him a disapproving frown from the fae. He barely noticed it, as he said a bit distantly, “… say what?”

“Surely you were taught that fae had longer lives,” Ignis said, as if the state of Gladio’s education was the real issue they needed to discuss. “This cannot be a surprise to you.”

Yeah, the fae was technically correct that he had been taught that, but those same instructors had also taught him that the fae were a scourge on the world who had to wiped out, and look at how accurate that had turned out to be. _One exception does not disprove the rule_ , a sour-faced tutor had pointed out when he’d dared question her lessons, but damn if Ignis was not an exception that would make anyone question everything they had ever been told. Anyway, being told something was different from seeing it for himself, and as he gaped at the fae who looked not a day over twenty, he asked weakly, “Exactly how old are you now?”

“That’s a rude question to be asking of anyone over the age of forty,” Ignis replied, not helping his cause at all. “Or by your standards, an eight-year old.”

Gladio opened his mouth, but when no words came out, he closed it, all the while openly staring at the fae who just looked right back at him, calm as can be. “Does that change anything?”

“What?” he rasped.

Ignis took another sip of coffee. Usually his eyes would close for just a moment, as he drank in the rich flavor that he so clearly enjoyed, but this time they stay locked on him. “Does that change anything,” he repeated, as if Gladio hadn’t heard him the first time around.

And to his own surprise, it didn’t. He’d known that as soon as Ignis had asked the first time around, even if he hadn’t been able to say it out loud. Because what could it change? The guy wasn’t completely human, and he wasn’t completely fae. He simply continued to be someone that refused to allow the prejudices of either define him, even if it had so clearly shaped his life, which just made Ignis… Ignis.

Ignis, who could kill a rampaging garulessa with the same ease with which he sliced onions. Ignis, whose hands were as gentle with Gladio’s wounds as his tongue was merciless with his patient’s pride. Ignis, who was perceptive enough to recognize his anger and practical enough to channel it into something meaningful, strengthening both his body and mind. Ignis, who had proved he could be so much more than what he was by making his own decisions, untethered by the weaknesses of either part of him.

Ignis who, despite all those years of learning nothing but hatred for the fae, Gladio was starting to care for.

“Of course not,” he finally said, even as that last thought made his heart race. He covered for it as best he could though, by adding, “If anything, it explains why you act like such an old man all the time.”

“Excuse me?” the fae replied, looking faintly outraged. “By human terms, I am barely twenty-two years of age. How old are you supposed to be?”

“I thought it was rude to ask someone’s age when they’re older than eight,” he shot back, and held his hands up in surrender at Ignis’s withering look. “Fine, fine. I’m twenty-three, which I guess makes me your elder.”

“And yet somehow none the wiser,” was the dry response, and Gladio couldn’t really disagree with that.

* * *

Gladio was never a religious man, although he had been known to pray to (or curse) the Astrals in times of desperation. But he was certain that this was the closest anyone had ever come to witnessing divinity, the day he finally woke up early enough to see Ignis standing outside, taking in the sunrise. The fae’s eyes were closed, his breaths slow and steady as the sunlight seemed to curl around his fingers before dancing up his arms, making his usually pale skin glow with a radiance that was surely not of this earth. It was a vision that went beyond line beyond human and fae, a cementing of the undisputable fact that Ignis was far more than either of those things could ever hope to be.

* * *

“I have a sister,” he said, as he washed the dishes. It was one of the few chores that Ignis let him do, although they both knew that the fae reserved the right to rewash all of them if Gladio’s skills were not up to his exact specifications. He thought he might be improving, given that the dishes from the last few nights had been exactly as he had left them, but there was always the possibility that Ignis was just getting better at covering his tracks.

Even though he was the one to bring it up, he didn’t really know why he did so. Neither, apparently, did Ignis, who looked up at him from the book he was reading, written in a language that Gladio didn’t recognize and was probably not human anyway. “Why are you telling me this?”

If Gladio had thought the guy was being defensive before when asked about the greatsword, it was nothing compared to now. If he didn’t know better, he might even think that the fae was _afraid_ , although that didn’t make any sense because what was frightening about talking about his family?

“Will you relax?” he asked, putting down the pot he had been scrubbing so that he could focus his attention on Ignis. “I’m just making conversation. I mean, I figured that you’ve told me stuff about you, isn’t it fair that I tell you something about myself?”

Not that he was actually concerned about fairness, but wasn’t it a bit strange that Ignis had never asked him anything personal? He definitely spent a lot of his time wondering about the fae, to the point that he never really thought about bringing up his own life. And maybe he shouldn’t be, considering how so much of their time was spent revolving around his injuries and well-being, so that it was a bit too much to be talking about himself on top of that.

But he wanted Ignis to know about him. Unlike the fae, who only revealed what he deemed necessary, Gladio had always been more open. Part of that was because of the family name, which made it hard to hide much of anything when the entire town knew their business. Most of it though was because of his family, who had always been close. So close that it made no sense, how he had lost so much of them already. It hurt, that his parents were gone, and it made him miss Iris all the more.

Of course Ignis, who understood him better than anyone outside of his family should have, would have picked up on that, and recognize that he didn’t just want to talk about Iris… that he needed to talk about her. “Apologies, Gladio,” the fae said, although he still sounded stiffer than normal. “What is she like, your sister?”

He beamed, as he always did when he got to regale a willing (or sometimes unwilling) audience about his sister. “She’s amazing. She’s strong and kind, and she always tries to make the best out of any situation. She’s independent, and doesn’t take shit from anyone, including me.”

“It sounds like you really love her.”

“She makes it easy,” he said fondly, before sobering. “Honestly, I didn’t think it would be. Our mom died giving birth, and I was eight and stupid, and I wanted to resent her for it.” Because while he had always looked up to his father, desperate to one day be worthy of standing at his side, his fondest childhood memories had always been centered on his mother. She had been the one who had instilled in him his love for reading, including those cheesy romance novels that his father would good-naturedly complain about. _“Nonsense,”_ she would always say, swatting his shoulder whenever he dared to tease her about her ‘questionable literary taste.’ _“There’s nothing ridiculous about love, now is there?”_

Her death had hit them both hard. If his father had not taught him to be strong, and if his mother had not taught him to be good, he really might have resented Iris for the loss. He sighed, looking out the window, at the small clearing where the garden was and the forest beyond, still not able to forget how sad and furious he had been, when his father had forced him to go see his new sister. “But as soon as I held her, I remembered how important family was. And since then, I’ve always tried to be there for her, even after she didn’t need me to.”

“Older brothers are often like that,” Ignis’s smile was gentle as he closed the book that he had been reading, interlacing his fingers before resting his hands on his lap. “Is that why you’ve been pushing yourself to get better?”

“Not really?” he replied, confused by where that was coming from. Did Ignis think that he had been trying to leave? If anything, he’d always assumed that it was the fae who was pushing him, to get him out of his home already since he’d probably overstayed his visit quite a while ago. But he couldn’t figure out anything from the guy’s impressively neutral tone, so he focused on the question being asked. “Like I said, it’s not like she really needs me to look after her anymore. You wouldn’t think it just looking at her, but she can hold her own in a fight, and then some. Hell, I’d be more worried about her coming after me at this point, rather than the other way around.”

He doubted that was likely though. Iris hadn’t said when she was coming back from her “training mission,” although he didn’t think it would have been anytime soon. Even though she had left all smiles, that hadn’t changed the reason _why_ she was leaving, and until the war was over, that reason would never change. Still, it was just like her to try and use her fears as motivation to improve her skills.

But just because she wouldn’t come looking for him didn’t mean no one else would. It hadn’t meant as much when his father had been alive, his disappearing into the forest for weeks at a time. But as the head of the Amicitia family, there was no way his absence had not gone unnoticed, especially not so soon after his father’s death. Did they think him dead? Had they found the broadsword, the blood, and the slaughtered garulessa, and assumed the worst?

What would happen if someone actually did manage to find him? To find _Ignis_?

“I have a younger brother as well, of sorts.”

Gladio’s attention snapped back to the fae, his thoughts immediately derailed by this newest information. “Yeah?” he said, deciding not to ask about the ‘of sorts’ comment. It was probably some fae thing anyway, and he didn’t want to send this conversation off-track, even as the fears of his last thoughts lingered. “Let me guess. He’s just as much of a stick in the mud as you.”

Ignis chuckled, and not for the first time, Gladio tried not to obsess over how _much_ he liked the fae’s soft laugh. There was a tinge of arrogance to it, which should have annoyed him, but Ignis was so good at everything he did that it seemed almost fitting. “Hardly. He is a lazy brat more often than not, and I had to do everything for him. Indeed, I may have been accused a few times of spoiling him, but one does his best.”

That would go a ways to explaining the fae’s mothering tendencies. “Sounds like a real handful.”

“Indubitably,” Ignis agreed, but instead of looking put-out by his brother’s personality flaws, his expression was almost… fond. “But he has a good heart, and he does his best, considering all that is expected of him. He has a difficult road ahead of him, and I did what I could to ease the way.”

The fae’s slender fingers were playing with his necklace, with its skull pendant that rested precisely at the hollow of his neck. Gladio had never really thought it was the fae’s style, but it had clearly meant a lot to Ignis considering how often he touched it, as if trying to reassure himself that it was still there. He’d always assumed that it was the uncle who had given it to him, but it was now obvious that he had assumed wrong.

“You miss him.” He knew that tone. He knew that quiet sorrow, having had so much of it between his mother’s and father’s deaths. “Is he…?”

“Oh no, nothing of the sort,” Ignis reassured him, although he didn’t sound particularly reassured himself. “I hope to see him soon, truthfully. It has been odd not having to look out for him these last few years, and I shudder to think what he has gotten himself into.”

The fae’s tone might have been casual, but as a fellow older brother, Gladio knew better than to mistake it as such. “How long has it been?”

“Too long,” was the quiet reply, as Ignis closed his eyes. “Far too long…”

Before he could think better of it, Gladio had walked over, putting a hand on the fae’s thin shoulder. Ignis immediately opened his eyes to stare at him in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he might have leaned into the touch, and Gladio had to remind himself that this was a serious moment, which meant it was definitely not the time for his heart to start fluttering at the unconscious reaction. It probably didn’t mean anything anyway, or so he would have to tell himself firmly.

That would have to come later though, as he concentrated not on himself, but the person he was meant to be helping. “You’ll see him soon.”

Ignis frowned, not appreciating his baseless optimism. “Because you know so much, do you?”

“Because I know you,” he corrected. “And I know how determined you can be. If you want to see your brother soon, then you will. I mean, you managed to keep me alive, so how hard can that be by comparison?”

“You are utterly absurd.” Ignis shook his head as if in despair, but he still didn’t pull away. Instead, he rested a hand on Gladio’s, and said softly, “But thank you, nevertheless.”

“You’re welcome, Iggy,” he said, and tried not to feel too forlorn when the fae removed his hand, opening his book again.

* * *

It was easier to distract himself during the day, but at night with no training, chores, or _Ignis_ to distract him, he found his thoughts straying back to more pressing concerns. Maybe that was why he was awake right now, his mind too troubled to go back to sleep as he stared out the window, where it was not only the shadows that were forbidding.

Whatever Ignis was doing here, he would bet it had something to do with his brother-of-sorts, which also meant that he would probably not be leaving anytime soon. The longer Gladio stayed, the higher the risk that someone might find them, simply because that meant people would continue looking. Even if they thought him dead, the townspeople would likely think it their obligation to at least find a corpse, something that could be buried next to where his parents rested. It would be the least they could do for the family that had protected them for generations, even if Gladio himself had done a piss poor job as the family head so far.

And what would happen then, if they actually succeeded in finding him? In finding _Ignis_?

His eyes strayed towards the other room, where the light was still on. Before he knew what he was doing, he was getting to his feet and walking over, overcome with an inexplicable need to see the fae. He was ready with the lie, an excuse about needing to use the bathroom or wanting to pick a new book, but it died in his mouth at the sight before him.

Ignis was lying on the sofa, the book he had been reading having mostly slipped out of his hands when he had fallen asleep. His glasses were slightly askew, and a few strands of his normally neat hair had fallen into his face. As it was when he had been taking in the sunrise, his breathing was gentle and steady, free of the enigmatic burdens that rested on his shoulders.

Then Gladio was acting on instinct, doing what he normally did when he found Iris in similar situations. He pulled the book from Ignis’s slack fingers and placed it on the side table, before pulling the blanket up to cover him. After a brief hesitation, he carefully removed the glasses, folding them and putting it on top of the book. He kept expecting Ignis to wake up from his jostling, if only because he had no idea how the fae managed to sleep at all given the sheer amount of caffeine that had to be running through his veins. But Ignis never even shifted, not even when Gladio gave into temptation and brushed the hair out of a face that was relaxed and free of his usually closed-off expression. It made the fae actually look his age, or at least the human equivalent of it, and Gladio had never wanted to kiss anyone so badly.

The thought had barely passed through his brain before he was stumbling backwards, although he never once looked away from Ignis even as he tried to put some distance between them. He simply wasn’t able to.

_Fuck_. He knew without a doubt that he was in this too damn deep, but what he didn’t know was what he was supposed to do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A somewhat longer chapter, to make up for the lack of an update next week as I will be out of town. I am somewhat happier with this chapter than the last, at least, although it feels like a lot more ended up happening than I had planned, including the final scene taking on a more depressing tone than I was expecting… ~~because clearly I have zero self-control when it comes to throwing in all the angst~~.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“At a certain point,” the fae said blandly, in that beautifully, decidedly asshole way of his, “one starts to wonder exactly how you managed to last to twenty-three years of age, considering how patently stupid you are.”_
> 
> _Gladio decided to be the better man and ignore that, focusing on what he was supposed to be doing. “I can’t stay.”_

Actually, it turned out the solution to his problems was easy: he just had to leave.

The fact that he hadn’t already was just proof of how selfish he had been in all of this. Sure, he wasn’t back to what he had been when he’d been merrily gored by a rampaging monster, but he also didn’t need to be. He’d been taking trips into the forest since he was Iris’s age, and he knew how to survive even if he still couldn’t win a fight against the fae. Not that he needed to; Ignis was a lot stronger than most everything in the forest, that was for sure.

Although it had been a convenient excuse, he knew that it wasn’t his physical weakness that had kept him there, but something much more dangerous that than. Because at a certain point, he had to accept that he stayed not because he had to, but because he _liked_ what they had, this quiet life that they somehow both fit into even though neither seemed particularly well-suited for it. More than that, he liked _Ignis_ , in a way that went beyond simple gratitude for someone who had saved his life. He didn’t know when he had fallen for the fae, but he most definitely had, and the thought of leaving was harder than it should have been given that they’d only known each other for a few weeks.

It would only get harder though, the longer that he stayed. It would also increase the risk of complications, for a situation that was already complicated enough. The possibility of someone finding them kept gnawing at him, even though he tried to tell himself that the forest was large and that the chance of anyone stumbling across them remote. Hell, he’d spent so much time in the forest and never knew that the fae was living there, in this clearing with a house and an honest to gods _vegetable patch_. But that didn’t mean it was impossible, and what would happen if it did happen? The fae might have saved him, but that didn’t mean he would be so merciful to anyone else, and Gladio’s loyalties would be torn between the people he had sworn to protect and the person who had not only saved him, but had helped him see this world in a different way.

What would he do, if it came to choosing between the two?

He didn’t want to find out. Maybe it was… no, it was _definitely_ cowardly, but it was a choice he wanted to avoid if possible, which was why he was leaving.

Of course, explaining that to Ignis was turning out not to be any easier.

“At a certain point,” the fae said blandly, in that beautifully, decidedly asshole way of his, “one starts to wonder exactly how you managed to last to twenty-three years of age, considering how patently stupid you are.”

Gladio decided to be the better man and ignore that, focusing on what he was supposed to be doing. “I can’t stay.”

Ignis crossed his arms, although his stance didn’t relax as he eyed him. “I wasn’t asking you to. But that still doesn’t explain why you find it necessary to sneak away in the middle of the night.”

“… it’s currently dawn,” he pointed out. Ignis probably had a point about his stupidity, but even he wasn’t going to try to make his way through the forest in the dark. That was why he had waited until right before the sun was about to rise, but either the fae really was a mind-reader, or all of that damn caffeine had kicked in.

Ignis didn’t even blink at the correction. “The question remains. Has my hospitality been so dreadful that you feel the need to leave without warning? Or is that you still cannot bring yourself to trust me?”

“What?!” He dropped the bag he had stolen, which was filled with the leftovers he had pilfered from the prior day’s meals. “No, shit, that’s-” That was the complete opposite of what he was doing but as soon as the fae had said it, he could see why anyone would think that. “-not what I’m doing at all. It has nothing to do with that, Iggy, I swear.”

His assurances did little to appease the fae. “Then why are you doing this, _Gladiolus_ ,” Ignis said, making sure to enunciate each and every syllable with a devastating finality. “Because you haven’t exactly made things clear.”

“I’m doing this for you!”

For the longest time, it seemed like the entire world had gone silent in the wake of his admission, as if even the birds and forest creatures did not dare make a sound. But Ignis, as always, was not so easily cowed, as the fae broke the silence by asking in the coldest voice ever, “Pardon?”

Gladio took in a deep breath, and repeated with somewhat more calm, “I’m doing this for you.”

“I heard you the first time,” Ignis replied testily. “And yet somehow your repeating yourself does not make your intentions any clearer.”

“Well, I don’t know how to make it any clearer than that,” he shot back. “Look, I… I appreciate what you’ve done, and okay, I get that it was shitty of me to try and leave without saying anything. But I can’t stay any longer, I can’t put you at risk anymore. If they come looking for me and they find you, I… I don’t want anyone trying to hurt you, alright?”

He hoped that the fae might be impressed by his selflessness, but that wouldn’t be like Ignis at all, so he braced himself for a cutting response about his misguided sense of self-importance. What ended up happening was far worse, as Ignis just threw his head back and _laughed in his face_.

Considering how often his ego had been beaten down by the fae, it was amazing that he could still feel this insulted by his reaction. “Hey, are you taking this seriously? I’m trying to _protect_ you.”

“You’re trying to protect me?” Ignis said, the words slightly breathy due to his soul-crushing amusement at Gladio’s expense. “You are actually worried about protecting me when you still cannot beat me in a simple practice spar?”

Gladio eyed the fae, seriously reconsidering exactly how much he liked the guy. More immediate though, was the challenge that had been thrown at him.

He had never been good at turning down a challenge.

Gladio didn’t bother waiting for Ignis to recover from his hysterics; the fae would be on the same page shortly, as he strode towards the shed where the weapons were kept. He knew exactly what he was looking for, picking up the polearm that Ignis usually used, along with a practice blade that he had been eyeing for quite some time. It was one of the few swords that the fae had, which seemed out of place given his preferences, but now was finally the time to show him what he was made of.

Ignis wasn’t laughing anymore when Gladio emerged, tossing the spear at him. He caught it easily, those sharp eyes glinting behind his glasses as he asked, “Best two out of three?”

“Nope,” he said. “I just need the one.”

“Hm.” And there it was again, that soft hum that could not have been more perfectly designed to drive him absolutely mad. “Someone is getting a bit cocky.”

He swallowed hard as the words took on a whole _new_ meaning, but he tried not to let himself get distracted by it because that was exactly what Ignis wanted. The fae had to know what he was doing to Gladio, with every sly smile and knowing look. The guy was a lot of things, but dumb definitely wasn’t one of them, although _manipulative_ might be at the top of the list. “Just shut up and fight.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Ignis said, before charging straight at him.

Gladio was ready for him though, allowing himself to grin just for a second before he adjusted his stance to meet the attack head-on. The force of the blow reverberated through him, but he held on grimly until the fae was forced to back down, darting away nimbly to regain his footing. But that was exactly what he was waiting for as he quickly followed after him, trying not to laugh at Ignis’s surprise as he closed the gap between them. Because if there was one thing he had learned from their battles, it was that the fae relied primarily on evasion, deftly avoiding all oncoming blows before trying to land attacks of his own when he saw an opening. And it worked because Ignis was fast, faster than anyone Gladio had ever sparred against.

The thing was, though, that most people tended to underestimate how fast _Gladio_ was, given his size. Obviously he wasn’t near as fast as Ignis was, but he didn’t need to be, using that split-second of shock to prevent the fae from getting too far. By keeping them as close as possible, he’d be forcing Ignis into a combat situation that was outside his usual comfort zone, although that didn’t by any stretch of the imagination mean that the fae was vulnerable. Still, this was a position that Gladio was more used to, and he took full advantage of it, making sure never to let Ignis get too far and putting him on the defensive.

Up close like this, he could see the slight clench of the fae’s jaw as he avoided Gladio’s assault. Ignis was strong, especially in quick spurts, but his stamina was not quite as high. Besides, Gladio only needed to succeed once while the fae had to keep on going, a proposition that grew the more difficult as the match went on. He also had the additional advantage that Ignis hadn’t seen him fight with a sword before, which was always his preferred weapon of choice even if this one felt as light as a child’s toy compared to the greatsword he was used to. But between a sword and a lance, he would always take the former.

Ignis slid past his latest attack with effortless grace, but instead of pushing away had ended up pulling just the slightest bit closer. That was all the advantage he needed, as his arm shot out to grab the fae around the chest, pulling him close in one sharp movement even as his sword came up to kiss that pale neck. Both of them were breathing hard, and in this position, he thought he could feel Ignis’s pulse racing.

“Ha,” he said triumphantly. “I win.”

“Did you now?” Ignis replied, and before he could blink, the fae slammed his head backwards, hitting Gladio’s face with just enough force to make him let go, somehow without breaking his nose in the process. Whether the guy would have dared try that if there had been a real sword at his throat, he couldn’t say, but that was the last thing on his mind as the world became a dizzying mess. He spun around, trying to get his eyes on the fae, but by the time he did it was too late because the entirety of Ignis’s lithe form came crashing down on him, driving him onto the ground.

And then he was lying on his back, the fae on top of him, legs straddling his hips as Ignis leaned over him, chest heaving from the exertion of their fight. The point of the spear buried itself in the ground barely an inch from his head, but the threat was an empty one as he stared into those eyes, bright not only from the heady adrenaline of battle, but undeniable _want_.

“Ignis,” he said hoarsely, as sweat dripped from the fae’s skin and onto his face. “I think-”

It turned out that it didn’t really matter much what he thought because then they were kissing each other. He would never know who had initiated it, but that didn’t really matter either because all he knew was that he never wanted it to stop. The kiss was hard and desperate and there was too much teeth as they both wrestled for control, and Ignis tasted just like he had expected him to, the rich but bitter tang of coffee that lingered on his every breath, and he _could not get enough of it_. Would never get enough of it, as his hands tangled in that light brown hair and pulled the fae ever closer.

Ignis was eventually the one to pull away, although it was obvious reluctance as the fae continued to stare at him, pupils dilated and kiss-swollen lips slightly parted.

“Shit,” he said, as all of his dreams and then some seemed to come true right before his eyes. “That was-”

A finger on his mouth shut up him up immediately, before Ignis said, “I think we need to talk.”

* * *

Despite everything that was happening, Ignis still insisted on making him tea. The fae, of course, nursed a mug of coffee, and Gladio wondered idly how the drink managed to taste so much better when on his lips.

“I’m not going to ask you to explain yourself,” Ignis finally said, as he leaned against the kitchen countertop. “I am certain it will make no sense to anyone anyway, so best not to waste time on that. What I do want to know, however, is exactly how you were expecting to make your way back to your town without some sort of directions?”

“I would have figured it out.”

The fae snorted. “Please. You would have wandered yourself into a ditch and probably broken a leg, and then I would have had to spend the next three weeks nursing you back to health all over again.”

On one hand, it was nice to think that Ignis would have gone after him, if only to make sure that he didn’t manage to get himself killed. On the other, the lack of faith was annoying, especially since he wasn’t nearly as helpless as the guy seemed to think he was. “Despite what you might think, I do actually know the forest. I’ve been going through it for a long time, and I would have figured it out.”

“You know the forest,” Ignis repeated. Skepticism was the polite way of describing his tone. “So well, in fact, that you’ve never once noticed that I’ve been living here for ten years.”

… right, the fae really needed to learn when was the right time to be using the _‘I’m five thousand times older than you’_ card on him because it really had a tendency of derailing all of his thoughts. It didn’t help when Ignis made that extremely distracting humming sound again, before correcting himself, “Well, to be precise, nine years, eleven months, and fourteen days.”

Because precision was what was important here. “That’s… that’s a really long time. And you’ve been here all by yourself? What about your brother? Shouldn’t you be looking after him?”

“That is precisely why I’m here,” Ignis said, sipping his coffee as if they were talking about the weather, rather than the fact that the fae had apparently been living here for ten godsdamned years. _Alone_ , most likely, judging by how carefully the guy was avoiding his first question. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would have been like. All of his life, he’d been surrounded by other people, whether it was his father’s silent watchfulness, his mother’s beautiful laugh, or his sister’s lively spirit. Outside of his family, there had always been the family servants, some of whom had become as close as family like Jared and his grandson. The thought of being anywhere for ten years with no one else was absolutely unbelievable, and he had no idea how Ignis would have made it intact.

Except that maybe he did. Because Ignis would do anything for the people he loved, including living by himself for ten years. He would have used duty as his shield from the loneliness, and maybe that was enough for him, but why should he have been by himself in the first place? Gladio felt an irrational anger with Ignis’s brother, as he growled, “But he’s not even here, is he?”

“Mm. Yes and no. He communes with the gods in the Crystal.”

Gladio felt a chill run through him. The Crystal. Of course he had heard of that sacred relic, as had any child growing up. The Crystal was always intertwined with the Astrals, a literal gift from the gods, although no human had ever known where it lay. Was that because it was in the hands of the fae? Did that mean the gods themselves were watching over the fae, protecting them? If so, had humanity ever stood a chance in this war?

Ignis, as always, seemed to know exactly what was going on in his brain. “There is no need to be concerned. This war has always been beneath the concerns of the gods. The Crystal was meant for a greater purpose, and his actions are not to benefit the fae, but the world at large.”

The thing about people doing things that was best for the world was that it was a sentiment that could be easily manipulated to justify just about anything. Ignis would know that though, and he had to believe that the guy actually meant what he was saying because otherwise he wouldn’t know what to believe anymore. Still, he didn’t understand how any one fae would be entrusted with such a monumental task, or how any one person in general if the world was really at stake. “So he’s like a priest?”

“… of sorts,” Ignis replied vaguely, which made Gladio think that it was absolutely nothing like that. “In any case, I stay here and make sure no harm comes to his physical body as he sleeps in the Crystal. Unfortunately, I can do nothing to stop him from saying something that will irritate them into driving him mad, but one can hope that he retained some of the manners I tried to instill in him.”

Gladio chuckled at the thought of anyone mouthing off to the gods, especially someone who grew up with Ignis, who was prim and proper to a fault. It didn’t last long though. “And you’ve been doing that for ten years. _By yourself_.”

Ignis ignored the emphasis. “Nine years and eleven months.”

“How did you manage it?” he asked. “How did you not go completely mad?”

“It was hard at the beginning,” the fae admitted. “Although I’ve never been the most… sociable person, I’ve been by my brother’s side for most of my life. Losing him to the Crystal, temporary as it will hopefully be, was difficult.”

“I can imagine,” he said, even though he really, _really_ could not, his mind still reeling from the fact that Ignis had been here for ten damn years.

“Can you?” Ignis smiled dryly. “While I’m sure you mean well, I really don’t think you understand. When my parents were killed, my uncle took me in, but that was hardly the end of the prejudice that existed. The thing about being a half-breed, after all, is that one tends to get the worst of both worlds. There were times that I was not entirely certain I would survive the torment of the other fae, and I was not the only one with such doubts. One night, I overheard my uncle asking someone if it would be better to cast me out and hope that humans would be kinder, or to simply poison me in my sleep. At least then, I wouldn’t have to live as a perpetual victim to those who did not care to understand that fae were no better than humans, despite what they have been told. The other man responded that there was no need for such measures, and he must have known that I was listening, for he came straight towards me and asked if I would be his son’s friend.

“I always thought that he did it for practical reasons, rather than because he was sympathetic. There were no other fae children to assume the role that he offered to me. It is not well-known, or at least not widely acknowledged, that prior to the war there were quite a few half-humans among the fae. It was a matter of necessity, really, for fae births are difficult at best, and the bloodlines were running thin. Back then, human blood was seen as equal enough, although that changed with the war, obviously. The law forbidding human-fae relations was passed, but the number of fae dropped dramatically as a result. Why else do you think this war has been so even?”

Gladio didn’t respond, even though he didn’t appreciate the implication that the fae were stronger, except that they _were_. With their magic, near immortality, and healing abilities, a fae could outlast what most humans could not. But it was true that at the same time, they’d never had much of an advantage during the war, or at least not nearly what they should have had given their innate advantages.

Ignis wasn’t waiting for a response though, and he continued. “Regardless of his intentions, it was clear that one benefit would be that I would gain his protection, if I was to be his son’s friend. Of course, he made it clear that my new position would not be able to protect me from everything because I could never change what I was. But at the very least, I gained a powerful guardian, and more importantly, I had Noct.”

“Noct,” Gladio repeated, but the name felt so empty coming from him, bereft of all the meaning that Ignis infused it with.

“He was a quiet child. Some considered him to be apathetic, but only because they could not see the kindness in him. He could have treated me ill, as so many others did, but he never once treated me as anything less because of what I was. Not that it was perfect,” he added, his lips quirking into a tender if somewhat exasperated smile. “His willfulness got us both into more trouble than I care to admit, and he became quite good at figuring out when I wasn’t able to say no to him. But it was not long before we came to see ourselves as brothers, despite our many differences. In the end, I look after him not for any offer of protection, but because I loved him.

“But when he was young, a monster severed his spine. Even as a full fae, he should have died, but the gods intervened. They had plans for him after all, plans that required him to live.” The bitterness in that last statement was not just from the coffee, although Ignis grasped the mug like it was a lifeline. Whatever it was the gods intended of this Noct, it was clear the fae resented it, regardless of what it meant for the fate of the world. “Many thought him weak, and unfit for what the fates had planned for him. Others thought it hardly mattered, what with a war to wage. But never once did he hesitate when he realized what he must do. He went into the Crystal as was required, and before he went, he asked if I would watch over him. Of course I accepted, for what was my life without him?”

“It was your life,” he said, not even sure what that was supposed to mean.

“Yes, and I choose to dedicate it to him.” Ignis looked at him, and there it was, that carefully neutral expression that Gladio was starting to dislike because it meant the guy was withdrawing from him. “I don’t expect you to understand, of course, but-”

“I understand,” he cut off, not interested in having any misunderstanding about this, when it was so important to the fae. “He means the world to you, and for good reason.” Meant so much, in fact, that Ignis would live in the forest, away from all others, for ten years.

But it wasn’t just about these past ten years, was it? It was an entire lifetime of having only one other person truly accept him for what he was. Gods, the fae must have been so lonely, to the point that he was willing to rescue a total idiot who had nearly got himself killed. An idiot who, he had to remind himself, had been a complete and utter asshole to him, doing exactly what everyone else had done. Yet rather than kick him out like he deserved, Ignis had let him stay, probably because he was so damn desperate that he would settle for someone like Gladio, who didn’t deserve anything that the fae had to offer him. Who couldn’t even force himself to leave to protect him, who instead-

“Gladio.” Ignis’s eyes were closed as he tilted his head back with a sigh. “Whatever you’re thinking, I’m almost positive that you’re wrong. I don’t love Noct that way. I have, and always will, care for him as my brother.”

“Joke’s on you then because that wasn’t what I was thinking.” He only wished he could feel triumphant of seeing the fae get something wrong for once, but now wasn’t the time. Ignis deserved better than him, deserved a hell of a lot more than what this shitty world had offered him so far, but the guy couldn’t even see that because of how lonely he was.

“Apologies,” Ignis said, without sincerity and without opening his eyes. “It’s a bit hard to think when all I can hear is you self-flagellating in the corner.”

He started to argue that first off, he wasn’t in a corner, and second, he was only thinking what was so damn _obvious_ when Ignis sighed again. “Despite what you might think, I know what I want. I know what I _feel_. Don’t go selling yourself short, or my feelings for that matter, simply because you were so blind at the beginning. You changed, and not many people are capable of that, with something as fundamental to our lives as the differences between human and fae.”

“That doesn’t mean you should care about me.”

“Yet nevertheless, I do. You don’t seem to want to acknowledge it, but you are kind, and open about your many shortcomings. You can be a bit of a boor, you tend to speak before you think, and your dishwashing skills could frankly use some work, but you are honest and you try to be better than you have to be, and you see me for what I am. And perhaps you are right and I have gone a bit mad, but I have never felt this way of anyone, except _you_.”

Gladio was pretty sure he was outright gaping at the fae, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “You forgot to mention my rugged good looks, you know. It’s one of my most commented-on features.”

“And so humble,” Ignis drawled in retort. “So very humble.”

The fae didn’t move, when he stood up and walked towards him. He also didn’t move when he removed the glasses, letting him look into Ignis’s eyes, which he had finally deigned to open. Without the glass obscuring them, he could see that those eyes were even brighter than he had expected, eerily inhuman but beautiful all the same, and he would never want it otherwise. Especially when right now, they were alight with _desire_ for him.

“A little madness never hurt anyone,” he said, and then he was leaning down to kiss Ignis again.

* * *

Gladio grunted, as Ignis shifted next to him. Or more accurately, practically on top of him. The bed was not meant for two people, especially not someone as _large_ as him, but it wasn’t all bad. Right now he had one arm wrapped around the fae, pulling him closer than he had during their spar, and the feel of that pale skin against his was electrifying, even though they had both cooled off (relatively speaking) after their… prior activities.

But Ignis was not one for idleness either, as those long fingers traced the lines of his tattoo. Each inked feather seemed to come to life at the soft touch, his blood thrumming with an aching need. The fae just laughed softly, pressing a quick kiss to the eagle eye right below his left clavicle, before his hand gently skimmed across the scar on the side of his ribs. “I imagine there is a story behind this one?”

“A training accident,” he replied, remembering the ghostly white face of his sparring partner as his father roared instructions to the doctors. It hadn’t even been that serious in the end, but it was the first one, and too soon after his mother’s death for any of them to overlook so easily.

The light touch danced across his torso, coming to a rest on a pale white line across his chest. “And this?”

“An angry anak. Not the one I saved, before you say anything,” he warned, and judging from Ignis’s slightly guilty expression, he had correctly guessed what the fae had been about to say.

“Still, that makes it all the more impressive that you were willing to put aside past experience to help that calf,” Ignis murmured, before adding because he _couldn’t help himself_. “Even if it was a foolish decision.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Indeed. We both seem to have a habit of rescuing strays,” the fae agreed amiably, before pulling himself up just enough to brush warm lips on the scar that cut across his face. “And what of this one then?”

The words were barely more than a whisper, but damn if it didn’t cause him to shudder. “That was a gift from the town drunkard.”

Ignis drew away, his expression scandalized. “Gladio. Did you get that in a drunken brawl?”

“Hey, I definitely didn’t say that,” he said, hooking an arm around the fae and dragging him back down. “ _He_ was drunk, and he wanted a fight that he wasn’t going to win. Maybe I should have let him have it, and then I could have avoided this scar, but… well, he was drunk and being stupid, and I wasn’t going to hurt him for that. Besides, don’t you think it adds to my charm?”

He didn’t have to look to know that the fae was rolling his eyes at that display of bravado, just as he didn’t need to ask to know why Ignis’s hand had tightened ever so slightly. With a soft sigh, he took that hand in his and pressed it against the barely healed skin, seared shut by flame. “You’re not going to ask me about this one?” he asked with a low laugh. “I got it when someone decided to take a chance on me, except he didn’t think to bring actual medical supplies.”

“I could set you on fire again, you do realize.”

“I bet you could,” he smirked, as their intertwined hands traveled further downwards.

* * *

When he left the next morning, Ignis didn’t try to stop him. Instead, the fae held out a bag to him. “There is food inside – actual food, mind you, more than enough to sustain you until you get back to your town. I put in some other supplies as well, including water and torches. You should also take a weapon to defend yourself with. There should be a real sword that will suit your needs, seeing how you’re clearly more comfortable with a blade than a spear. And-”

“Iggy,” he finally had to interrupt because he didn’t think he would ever get a word in otherwise. “I’m coming back. Once I get things settled and they know I’m alive and don’t need to come looking for me, I’m going to come back.”

“Of course,” the fae replied, in that overly polite way of his. Which was fair; they both knew that his confidence was unwarranted, given that Gladio had responsibilities to go back to. Responsibilities that weren’t so easily “settled,” and responsibilities that would prevent him from returning anytime soon. It was why it was so hard for him to leave in the first place, when he couldn’t realistically say that he would be able to come back as quickly as he wanted to.

And if it was hard for him, he could barely imagine what it was like for Ignis, who had already spent the last ten years in solitary exile, watching over a godsdamned rock. The fae might be used to the silence, but that didn’t mean it was going to be easy to go back to that life, and Gladio suddenly felt guilty for putting the guy in this position by nearly getting himself killed. Would it have been easier for him to not have these past few weeks, if he was just going to end up being alone again?

(He knew not to say any of this out loud. Ignis probably would set him on fire if he did, and not just figuratively.)

Despite all of that, he still knew that he had to leave. He could only hope that the sooner he did, the sooner he would return to Ignis.

Meanwhile, the fae had returned to his explanations, all business-like as he continued, “There is also a map in there, so that you can actually find your town without getting more lost. Honestly, Gladio, I don’t know what you were thinking, to try to leave on your own. You would only have gotten yourself killed.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard the lecture last time, thanks so much,” he grumbled, earning him that trademark irate sigh. But within it was the slightest tinge of gloom, and before he could stop himself from making this harder on the both of them, he was cupping that pale face with his hands and gently tilting Ignis’s face up so that they could look into each other’s eyes.

“I’m coming back,” he repeated, before kissing Ignis on the forehead. “I promise.”

The fae sighed. “You shouldn’t make promises you might not be able to keep,” Ignis said, but there was no heat in the words as he gave over the bag to Gladio. The way their hands brushed against each other was completely unnecessary, yet both seemed to linger for a few seconds more than they should have.

Just like their first kiss, it wasn’t enough. But it would have to do for now, as Gladio hefted the bag over his shoulder and turned away.

He could feel Ignis’s eyes watching him as he left, the sensation sticking with him long after he had entered the forest.

* * *

Even with the map that the fae had provided him, it took him the better part of a day before he found himself somewhere remotely familiar. He was still quite a ways from the town though, so he settled down for the night, not at all surprised to find that the “other supplies” provided to him included a thin yet warm blanket, probably made of some magical fae-material.

He made a small fire, although he knew better than to keep it going too late. The light would only attract wild monsters, and while Gladio was definitely better, he wasn’t interested in fighting off the native wildlife instead of getting some much needed rest.

Still, the fire was there for a reason. He took out the map again, clearly drawn by the fae himself, and looked it over one more time. Once he was absolutely sure that he had it memorized, he threw it in the fire, and watched the flames lick across the page.

* * *

“Sir?!” The crash of whatever Jared had been holding falling to the ground was uncharacteristic of the man, but it was understandable given that Gladio had just wandered back into the manor after having gone missing for so long.

“Hey Jared,” he greeted, trying not to grin at how _relieved_ the family retainer looked. Although technically a servant, he had never really seen Jared as just that, and it was nice to be reminded that the feeling was mutual. But then the relief was fading into a serious, tense expression, and it set his nerves on edge. “Jared? Is something the matter? Is it Iris?”

“No, sir,” the man said quickly, trying to sound reassuring but still looking troubled. “I do apologize if I worried you. It’s just that… well, you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

“Yes. He arrived just this morning. I tried to explain to him that you had…” _gone missing_ , was what he probably intended to say, before he decided to phrase it more delicately, “… that you were not here, but he insisted on staying until you returned.”

Gladio frowned, still trying to process why anyone would be visiting, let alone insisting that he be allowed to stay when the head of the household was not there to greet him. Especially when no one even knew when – or rather, _if_ – he would be returning. He started to ask, only to be cut off by a sickly smooth voice coming from the sitting room.

“Ah, is that Lord Amicitia?” The man who emerged was so unkempt that he could easily have been mistaken for an eccentric vagabond, except that his clothes were too fine and his smile too knowing. The not-so-small group of soldiers at his back were also a good hint that he was a lot more than what he appeared. “Could it possibly be that the prodigal son has returned? Why, we were all _so_ worried about you.”

“And who the fuck are you?” he replied bluntly, even as he tried to remember that if there was one thing he had learned during his time with Ignis, it was that it was completely irrational to hate someone simply on principle. Still, considering the man before him, smiling like he knew something the whole damn world was blind to, he thought even the fae would make an exception to that life lesson.

“A man of no consequence, I assure you,” was the casual reply, as the man removed his hat and gave an exaggerated bow. Gladio’s feelings of utter hatred intensified in turn. “Still, I was hoping for a moment of your time, if you would be so kind?”

He eyed the soldiers that surrounded the man; none of them had pulled out their weapons, but they were clearly ready to do so on the man’s command. Seven. Even if he was completely healthy, and didn’t have Jared and the other family servants to worry about, taking out this many men would be a stretch.

And then there was this “man of no consequence” too. More so than the soldiers, there was something about him that bothered Gladio, and made him certain that he wouldn’t be able to fight his way out of this one. That meant he only had one option left to him, so he shrugged, careful to keep his voice bored. “Sure. Why the hell not?”

“Splendid,” the man said, and his broad smile was all teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not entirely sure how this chapter twice went from angsty exposition to let’s smoosh, but here’s a vague cliffhanger to distract you all, while I pack up my bags and flee from the rules of logic and common sense.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You’re looking for a fae.” Gladio could literally feel his blood run cold, as if by the very magic that they spoke of._ Ignis. _The thought of this man, with his easy smile and cruel eyes, getting anywhere near the fae was absolutely horrifying._
> 
> _“Oh, not just any fae,” the man said, sounding almost offended at the thought of his prey being so ordinary. “I’m looking for the fae prince himself.”_

Gladio tried not to think about how odd it was, to be sitting in what he had always thought to be his father’s chair. It had been over a month since his father had died, long enough for him to have accepted his new role in life, but it still felt so wrong. His mind unwittingly wandered back to the past few weeks, and the quiet life he had embraced with Ignis, a thought that immediately made him miss the fae. But now was not the time for sentimentality, as he watched the supposed man of no consequence sit down across from him, surrounded by the soldiers who remained standing despite the number of open chairs in the study.

“Many thanks for your hospitality,” the man said brightly, as if Gladio had had any choice in this. “But you seem a busy man, so I will get straight to the point. I am looking for someone, and I do believe you are just the man to help me.”

He grunted. “What makes you think that?”

“It is a long story, and I will try not to bore you with the details.” Meaning that he didn’t plan on telling him the truth, but that was to be expected. “Over the past years, I’ve sent many a brave man to scour the forest for my quarry, but alas, all went missing with nary a trace. Their numbers reached the point that I felt compelled to investigate the matter myself, which is how I found myself in your quaint little town, all in a panic over your recent disappearance.”

The man paused to smile, like he was amused by the thought of being worried about anyone other than himself. Gladio just stared back at him, trying not to show his annoyance at the belittlement of his home. The town might have been small compared to the grander cities scattered throughout the Empire, but that didn’t make it any less than them. He obviously didn’t succeed because the man’s smile managed to widen, before he continued, “Being the sympathetic sort, I decided to offer my assistance and look for you as well. And while we were unable to find any sign of my missing men, we did come across a most disturbing scene. A dead garulessa, stripped of much of its flesh, human blood, and a greatsword, which one of your townsfolk was able to identify as your own. And twisted throughout it all, the taint of fae magic.”

“You’re looking for a fae.” Gladio could literally feel his blood run cold, as if by the very magic that they spoke of. _Ignis_. The thought of this man, with his easy smile and cruel eyes, getting anywhere near the fae was absolutely horrifying.

“Oh, not just any fae,” the man said, sounding almost offended at the thought of his prey being so ordinary. “I’m looking for the fae prince himself.”

The relief that surged through him nearly took his breath away, as he realized that there was no way this man was looking for Ignis. Ignis was a lot of things, but he was definitely no prince, his parents having been ordered killed by the fae king himself. While Gladio felt a faint stab of pity for the man’s actual target, what mattered more to him now was that the fae would stay safe. “I can’t help you. I don’t know anything about the fae prince.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate yourself,” the man chided as he leaned back in his seat, never taking his eyes off of Gladio. “The magic we found that day was no ordinary fae magic. I dare say I have never seen anything quite like it, even in my old age. It lacked the purity of a full-blooded fae, yet contained the extraordinarily destructive power associated with only the royal family and the select few most loyal to them. A power responsible for ending more human lives than all the other fae combined.” He cocked his head slightly, “Does any of this sound familiar to you now?”

“No,” he said, despite his growing unease as the man’s words festered in his brain. _At the very least, I gained a powerful guardian_ , Ignis had said, and who would be more powerful than the fae king himself? But how could that be? The very man who had not only ordered his parents killed, but who had permitted a society who shamed and tormented him, to the point that his own family wondered if death would be a kinder fate? How desperate had Ignis been to agree to the request of his parents’ murderer, to serve the son of a man who had taken everything from him?

Not only that, but why would the fae king ask a half-human, half-fae to befriend his son in the first place? Why would he then grant the magic of the royal family to someone whose existence was barely tolerated by the laws he upheld? It didn’t make any _sense_ , what this man was suggesting. It _couldn’t_ be Ignis that he was talking about.

Except. Except if anyone could do those things, to be practical enough to look past the personal hurt and exceptional enough to shatter any barrier in his way, it was Ignis. Ignis didn’t rise above what he was, so much as prove wrong all those who dared to look down at him as something less on account of his bloodline. Why would it be so surprising that the fae could become so invaluable to the prince, when he had become so important to Gladio in just a few short weeks?

And then there was how defensive Ignis had been, when he had brought up Iris. He had just been making conversation, but how he realized that the fae must have thought he was probing for information. For _Noct_.

“Yes,” the man said, as if agreeing with all of his innermost thoughts. “Modern technology is so extraordinary, don’t you know? Indeed, I can sense that same half-breed corruption all over you as well. The others thought you lost, but I had a feeling you would manage to return from wherever that half-breed is, and to my delight, here you are. Which means you know how to find him. Would you care to share?”

Gladio might still have been struggling to process the possibility of what exactly Ignis was, but there was one thing he was certain of. “No,” he said flatly. “No, I would not.”

“A pity,” the man said sadly, as if he was actually capable of being hurt by anyone. “What would Clarus Amicitia say, if he knew that his heir was protecting the enemy?”

He glared at the man, who dared to use his father’s name as a weapon against him. “You don’t have the right to pull that shit on me, Chancellor.”

“Oh, so you’ve figured me out?” Ardyn Izunia said, although he didn’t sound too concerned by it. What did the second most powerful man of the Empire have to fear from him, after all? His family might be important to the town, but when it came to the rest of humanity, even his father had been little more than cannon fodder for the battlefield. “Perhaps you are a bit more perceptive than I was led to believe. But not quite perceptive enough to know whose arms you were sleeping in, it seems.”

Gladio couldn’t even begin to wonder how the Chancellor could have known about that because it didn’t matter. The words were not just a taunt, as he watched the soldiers’ faces twist in disgust when they realized what was being said. That same expression would be on the faces of everyone in the town, should Ardyn choose to spread the word of exactly what he had been doing with Ignis. They would revile him as a traitor to humanity, and could he blame them? It was the exact reaction he would have had, if not for the fae showing him just how ignorant he had been.

Ardyn barely gave time for the threat to sink in, before he continued with an unholy cheer. “But perhaps he didn’t have the decency to tell you what he is. That your _lover_ is none other than the most loyal retainer to the fae prince himself. And you know what that means, don’t you?”

Whether or not he did, it didn’t stop the Chancellor from spreading his arms and proclaiming grandly, “He knows where the fae prince is. With that knowledge, we can find the prince and kill him. Cut off the snake’s head, and the rest will follow. We can _end_ this war, Lord Amicitia, this war that has taken countless lives, including that of your dear father. Humanity would finally be able to rest easy, without the threat of the fae at its door. And who could doubt your allegiances then, as the man who helped save the world?” Ardyn paused, letting the offer of redemption dangle between them, before he said coaxingly, “And all you have to do is tell me where to find him.”

Gladio stared at him, trying to process a possibility that he had thought out of reach in not only his lifetime, but the next ones as well: an end to this war. He might not be certain of the righteousness of this war, of whether the fae were the scourge that they were made out to be, but that didn’t change the fact that people were _dying_. People he cared for, people others cared for… so many lives had been lost after two millennia of fighting, to the point that the best most people could hope for was to do their families proud by dying well in battle. Wasn’t it his duty, to spare future generations of the death that had defined all of the previous ones? To spare _Iris_ the possibility of burying all that remained of her family?

It wasn’t just a passing fancy either, to think that one death could turn the tides so thoroughly. In a war that was so even, any advantage could change the course of the war for good. Ignis himself had admitted that fae births were difficult, and if the fae prince died, it was likely that the royal bloodline would end as well. And with it, the more powerful magic that had taken so many lives.

Gladio could help end this war, but it would come at a cost: he would have to betray the fae. Betray _Ignis_. The thought of it made his hands clench, as his mind flickered back to the fae’s knowing looks and gentle touch on his skin, to every thoughtful gesture and sharply clever retort, to the taste of those lips against his own. “What would happen to him?”

“The half-breed?” Ardyn did not bother to hide his contempt. “If he cooperates, I’m sure he could be spared. He can’t help what he is, after all. Of course, that is dependent on his cooperation, and we all know what stubborn creatures those fae can be.”

His mouth felt so dry that swallowing was near impossible, as he remembered what the fae had said so long ago. _My loyalties lie only with those who have earned it. All that matters to me is protecting the ones I care for, and the rest of the world can burn as long as they remain safe._ There was no doubt in his mind that Ignis would never betray the one he loved as a brother, the only person who had ever loved him without first judging him for what he was. But that wouldn’t stop the Chancellor from trying, and what would Ardyn do to the fae to get the information he so desperately wanted?

_Oh gods._

“I didn’t go out there looking for him,” he said, in a desperate but futile attempt to stall. He had only wanted to get away from his father’s death and the war, yet somehow he had stumbled right into the middle of this conflict. It was just like how he had tried to leave Ignis to avoid having to choose between his duty to the town and the fae, only to end up facing that exact decision now. The irony would be laughable, if the consequences weren’t so high.

“Yet you found him,” Ardyn replied, in a way that almost made Gladio wish he never had. “Are you saying no to my proposal?”

If only he knew. But before he could say anything one way or the other, the Chancellor folded his hands in his lap and said mildly, “You have a sister, do you not? I heard she went to Lestallum to train. It would be a shame if an accident was to befall such a lively girl.”

Gladio shot up to his feet, and had seven guns pointed at him for his trouble. But he only had eyes for Ardyn, as he snarled, “You stay the fuck away from her.”

Ardyn just continued to smile, a reminder of how small a threat he was. “Do as I say, and she will never see my shadow.”

He had never wanted so badly to hurt another person, to grab the bastard by the hair and slam his skull into the table until the bone split and cracked. But he knew he’d be dead before he could even reach across the table, and more than that, he knew _Iris_ would be too. As much as he cared for Ignis, Iris would always be his priority, as she had been from the very first moment he had held her in his arms. To keep her safe, he would do anything, even if it meant condemning the fae to a fate worse than death.

And the Chancellor knew that all too well, rendering him helpless as the man rose to his feet. “We’ll leave tomorrow then, if you have no objections?”

Gladio had plenty of objections, but none that he could voice, let alone act upon. Not when Iris was on the line. All he could do was nod numbly, and watch as Ardyn and the soldiers departed.

* * *

He could have lied. He could have claimed that he didn’t know how to go back, which was not outside the realm of possibility because the forest was vast and could hide most anything, including a fae who had gone undetected by all for ten years. He could have led Ardyn and the small army that accompanied them in circles, or tried to give Ignis some sort of warning to allow him the chance to escape.

He didn’t. Maybe he would have, if he thought there was any chance of getting away with it. But he knew he wouldn’t. Ardyn, despite his light words and careless attitude, knew far too much, and he would definitely know if Gladio tried to lead them astray. And then the Chancellor would make him pay for it, with Iris’s blood.

And yet. While there had been no decision to make once Iris’s life had been threatened, that had only spared him from choosing between Ignis and the rest of humanity. But if was honest with himself, didn’t he know what he would have done? Because how could he put one life, even Ignis’s, over so many others? If Ignis was the cost of ending this pointless war, wasn’t that a cost _worth_ paying?

There was a part of him that hesitated, wondering if the war really did have to end with the annihilation of either the fae or humans. After all, wasn’t Ignis proof that they could peacefully co-exist? If the fae prince had gone so far as to choose a half- _human_ as his most loyal retainer, to watch over him as he slept in the Crystal, maybe this Noct could be reasoned with, to end this war without the destruction of one species or the other.

But tantalizing as that possibility was, it was much too theoretical. As much as he didn’t trust Ardyn’s motivations, he couldn’t deny that the Chancellor was offering something _real_ , a chance to end the fae’s royal bloodline and deal a mortal blow to their chances of victory. When given such an opportunity, how could he even consider pinning his hopes of a peaceful resolution on someone he didn’t know, even if that someone was good enough for Ignis to have dedicated his life to?

In the end, it didn’t really matter. As long as Iris’s life was in play, he would do as he was told, and lead Ardyn and his men to the fae. Yet the closer they got, the more he felt like the monster he had long thought all the fae to be, because what he was doing was also undeniably _wrong_.

That became all the clearer, when the Chancellor abruptly stopped their progress, glancing around the forest that looked much the same to anyone except those who knew it.

“We’re getting close,” he murmured, staring hungrily in the exact direction of Ignis’s home. Then he glanced over at Gladio, a vicious glint in his eyes. “You go on ahead, and distract the half-breed while my men prepare. It should be easy enough for you to buy us time, given how he already trusts you so.”

He wanted to protest, except how could he deny the truth? He had reasons for doing this, some of which were even outside his control, but that didn’t change the fact that he was betraying Ignis’s trust, abusing the faith that the fae had put in him. It didn’t change what would happen to Ignis, when he inevitably refused to hand over the prince’s location.

Ardyn couldn’t care less about his internal turmoil though, the man snapping his fingers impatiently at the soldiers. Two of them came forward, practically staggering under the weight of what they were carrying.

“You should take that,” Ardyn said, as his family’s greatsword was presented to him. “You’re probably going to need it.”

* * *

He found Ignis tending to the vegetable patch, murmuring gentle words of encouragement to the bean plants. The first time he had seen it, he had thought the fae mad, until he had seen the way the plants had reacted to his voice. Like the sunlight that coiled around his fingers during the dawn, the plants had no choice but to take heed of Ignis’s irresistible call, as they twisted and blossomed in a desperate attempt to get please him.

Gladio knew the feeling well, as he watched in silence. Even now, with Ardyn’s threat hanging over him, there was something about Ignis that set him so at ease that he could almost believe this could be the rest of his life, watching the fae turn the most mundane acts into something absolutely extraordinary.

But the moment couldn’t last forever, and as always, Ignis was the one to break it as he somehow sensed that he was being watched. He looked up, catching Gladio’s eyes, and for a second he looked surprised but _pleased_ , as if he hadn’t really allowed himself to believe that Gladio would come back until now.

The joy faded quickly though, once Ignis saw the greatsword he held behind his back.

“Gladio,” he said softly as he straightened, and how he could sound so calm, Gladio had no idea. “You’re back earlier than expected.”

“Ignis,” he replied. And in that moment, he nearly told him. He nearly tried to warn him, to give him the chance to escape, slim as it might be at this point. It was the least he could do for the person who had saved him and cared for him, and who he cared for in return. But he couldn’t protect him, not from this, not without risking everything important in the life he’d had before he met the fae, and realized how little he knew about anything. And there were still plenty of things he didn’t know, especially about Ignis, as he said, “So. You’re a retainer to the prince, huh?”

Even the fae couldn’t quite hide his surprise at that, although it was replaced quickly by that coldly blank expression. “And where did you hear that?”

He knew it was completely irrational, but somehow Gladio felt _betrayed_ by the implicit admission, as Ignis couldn’t even be bothered to deny the truth. It didn’t matter that the fae had never owed him that, having already given him so much more than he deserved. All he could think was that maybe if he had known, he would have been better prepared to deal with Ardyn, to deal with all of this, rather than feeling like he had been thrown into something that was so above his head that he had no idea how to handle any of it. It barely mattered that those were all excuses for what he was doing because he needed _anything_ to distract himself from his own actions, especially now that he was face to face with Ignis.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Green eyes narrowed, dark with anger that was actually warranted. “Of course it does. Who have you been talking to?”

“This isn’t about them,” he replied, and it wasn’t completely a lie. “What else have you not been telling me?”

“What makes you think I was obligated to tell you anything at all?” Ignis shot back. And of course the fae had a point, given that they had only known each other for a few weeks, given how Gladio had treated him at the beginning, given what Gladio was _doing to him now_ , yet the icy contempt still hurt like hell. “Who _told_ you?”

He had never seen Ignis like this before, dangerous and vengeful and still so damn _beautiful_ , to the point that he was torn between running away (again) and falling to his knees to apologize for everything that was to come. But that was a weakness he couldn’t afford, and not just because of Ardyn. The fae like this was beyond mercy or pity, and Ardyn’s words played in his head over and over again. _I’ve sent many a brave man to scour the forest for my quarry, but alas, all went missing with nary a trace_.

Not completely without a trace. He thought about the swords that Ignis didn’t use, and some of the other weapons in the shed that had seemed out of place among the lines of spears and daggers. He had barely taken notice of them, except in idle curiosity, but now he wondered if they were supposed to be trophies or silent memorials to the men who, to the outside world, had simply gone missing. “You killed them, didn’t you? The other humans you came across. You killed all of them.”

Again, the fae didn’t try to pretend otherwise. “They were looking for Noct.”

“So that justified murder?”

“I promised to protect him from any threats,” Ignis replied, no emotions, no _apology_ in the words. Only one thing mattered to him, and the lives of mere humans were nothing compared to his prince. “They were threats.”

“And what about me?” he asked. “You were going to kill me too, weren’t you?”

“I _saved_ you, in case you’ve already forgotten,” Ignis snapped, and the fae’s barely-suppressed fury made the scar from the garulessa’s attack throb, like even it recognized how unfair he was being. Except that for once, he wasn’t. Not about this.

“I’m not talking about these past few weeks,” he said quietly. “When you saw me help that anak… you weren’t just watching me. You were planning on killing me because you thought that I was a threat too.”

There was a time when he would have been smug about rendering the fae speechless. Right now though, he just felt sick when Ignis said nothing. How many others had the fae killed, who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time? How many had he deemed a threat when they were just lost and frightened? Ignis was smart, but he could also be arrogant, and that could be a deadly combination when it came to deciding who got to live and who did _not_.

“I told you before,” Ignis finally broke the silence. “I will do anything to protect those I love.”

“You mean Noct,” he said, not sure who the words were meant to wound. “Because he’s the only one you’ve ever truly loved, isn’t he?”

Gladio might have been asking the question, but thankfully he would never have to hear the answer as the smell of smoke suddenly filled the air. They both turned towards the fae’s home, and his eyes widened as he saw the flames, the sight of it stunning him into inaction.

Ignis, by stark contrast, didn’t even hesitate. Gladio had barely turned back towards him when a lance appeared in his hands, shimmering with blue magic. The fae had every right to kill him at that point, but he didn’t even spare a glance back at him, as Ignis crouched down before launching himself into the air.

Even from this distance, he could hear the crackle of the fire, before it was split by a choked scream when the fae’s weapon ran through one of the men from head to toe, as easily as he had skewered those bulette shanks in a life that now forever seemed out of reach. Ignis didn’t yank the lance out, instead letting it disappear in a shower of crystals, before summoning twin daggers that reflected the red of both the flames and the setting sun.

Gladio began to run, stumbling towards the battle despite not knowing who he was even supposed to be fighting. The closer he got, the more clear it became that whatever Ignis had been doing with him, the fae had always been holding back, whether out of deference to his wound or because he had always known that this betrayal was inevitable. Ignis had always been beautiful when they fought, all steel and long limbs, but this was something else entirely. Each move was still fluid and flowed effortlessly into the next, like water taken form, but its destructive might was now intensified by the royal magic.

Ignis’s daggers sparked with electricity as he closed in on the men standing by his home, slitting the throats of two before the other soldiers could finish pulling out their weapons. For one, who barely looked of age and had the fearful look of a conscript who had never wanted to leave his home in the first place, it was far too late, as the fae slashed at him with blades suddenly alight with fire. The flames stemmed the flow of blood from the severed arms that fell to the ground, but it did nothing for the boy’s pitiful shrieking.

By then, the others had mobilized. Whether out of duty to their people or fear of the Chancellor’s wrath, they flung themselves at the fae, despite knowing that only death awaited them. Ignis was at least merciful enough to make it quick, as one after another fell, their lives ended by both steel and the fire that was the fae’s namesake.

Three tried to approach him from behind, but Ignis was too well-trained to fall for that as he spun around in a graceful arc. Before they could attack, the fae had leapt at one of the men, kicking the soldier back while he used the leverage to execute a perfect backflip. He landed on his knees, slamming the daggers into the ground, and ice flashed outwards to freeze everything within range, extinguishing the fire that burned his home and turning the remaining men to silent statues of death.

All of the remaining men, that was, except Gladio.

Not that Ignis was unaware of his presence. The entire time he had fought, he had always been watching Gladio from the corner of his eye, checking to see what he was doing. To see not if, but _when_ the blade that was hefted across his shoulder would be put into play.

But now there was nothing standing – or _breathing_ – between him and a fae that would do anything to protect his prince. He wanted to believe that it was with reluctance that Ignis rose to his full height before turning to face him, the lips that he had not so long ago been kissing so desperately now tight with the knowledge of what had to be done.

He was ready for it, when Ignis lunged at him. But it was still a surprise how quickly the fae moved, seeming to blink out of existence entirely before appearing right in front of him, twin blades crashing into the greatsword that he had barely raised in time. The shock of lightning, combined with the force of the blow, nearly sent him sprawling backwards, but he gritted his teeth and adjusted his stance until just like their last battle, Ignis was forced to back off. But unlike then, neither of them were holding back, the fae’s deadly intent forcing Gladio to use all his strength just to stay alive. If not for his family’s greatsword, imbued with the best technology that his ancestors could afford, he would have died from that first clash, but with it he could at least defend himself.

For a time, anyway. There was only so much the greatsword could do, when its owner was so lacking. Whether it was the lingering effects of the gut wound or his guilt or the fact that he didn’t have something to fight for, not in the same way that Ignis did now that he had assured Iris’s safety by doing as Ardyn had demanded… the fact of the matter was that it was never a fair fight. Just as those soldiers had been, he was hopelessly outmatched, doing all he could just to survive the assault. But no one could win by staying on the defensive, and when a vicious kick to the back of his knees sent him sprawling, he knew that it was over. By the time he got back to his feet, one of Ignis’s daggers was at his throat.

He waited. It was the only thing he could do, to wait for the fae to kill him. He knew from very recent experience that Ignis could make it fast, although whether he chose to do so was a different story. And as he waited, he looked down into the fae’s green eyes, as fiery as the flames that danced along the dagger’s edge, eager to lick through his skin and consume him in a blazing conflagration. Ignis stared right back at him, expression almost searching, like he was trying to find a reason not to do this.

But no such reason existed, and he prepared himself, just as he had done when the garulessa had charged him. This time though, his apology was not just to Iris.

And then a shot rang through the air, and Ignis jerked. Gladio felt a sharp pain as the blade nicked his neck, but the fire had already died out with a soft whisper that was quickly lost in the clatter of the daggers falling, before they too disappeared in blue sparks. Gladio ignored the pain, his arms automatically opening to catch the fae as he pitched forward, keeping him from collapsing to the ground.

For a terrifying moment, he thought that Ignis was dead, but there was no blood other than his own and that of the dead soldiers. His hands stumbled up the slim back, before they came across a dart embedded right between the shoulder blades. He looked up, following its path to find a blond soldier, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as if stunned that he had made the shot at all. Gladio probably should have appreciated the skill of his aim, or how the tranquilizer’s effect was practically instantaneous (another technological achievement courtesy of the Chancellor, no doubt), both of which were key to why he was still breathing because otherwise, the fae would certainly have slit his throat.

He couldn’t. Not with the way Ignis was slumped in his hold, eyes wide with surprise and maybe even fear, as the other soldiers closed in around them.

“I’m sorry,” he said, as he continued to hold the fae close. Ignis did not respond to the hollow apology, except for the ways his fingers tightened ever so slightly around his arms, before they too went slack and his eyes slid shut. A single shot was all it had taken, so why were they surrounded by the bodies of so many dead soldiers? Why hadn’t the blond been allowed to take the shot when they were still in the field, preventing all of this unnecessary death?

Because Ardyn was cruel, the man in question striding across the grass that was soaked in the blood of his men. He’d sent them to die simply because he didn’t care about them, and now this same man was fixated on Ignis. His skin crawled as the Chancellor came to a stop less than a foot away, beaming.

“Well done, Lord Amicitia,” Ardyn said, the title sounding like an insult coming from his mouth. “We couldn’t have done this without you.”

The reminder that he was the cause of this was all that was needed for his grip to loosen, as if he had finally remembered that he didn’t have the right to touch Ignis any longer. After that, it was easy for the soldiers to pull the fae away from him, fastening chains around slim wrists and ankles. Ignis might be unconscious now, but they obviously weren’t going to take any chances, not with the evidence of his destructive abilities still littering the ground.

When he could no longer stand to watch the soldiers manhandling Ignis’s limp body, he turned to the Chancellor. “What are you going to do to him?”

The man shrugged lazily, like such concerns were beneath him. “I’m a man of my word. If he cooperates, no harm will come to him.”

There were two problems with that answer, but Gladio chose to focus only on the latter. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then he brought it on himself, didn’t he?” Ardyn replied.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I will not tell you where he is,” he said, the words as crisp and clear as always, his tone leaving no room for argument or protest. But there was a ragged edge to his voice, even as he continued determinedly, “You will get nothing from me.”_
> 
> _“I’m not here for that.”_

The Empire’s capitol was in Gralea, but it had long maintained outposts and government buildings scattered throughout the lands. Gladio’s town would normally be considered too small for either, until the Empire had abruptly taken over one of the buildings in the town center nearly ten years back. At the time, nobody had understood the sudden interest in this place, but he knew the truth now. Nine years and eleven months, Ignis had said – had they been looking for the fae prince all this time?

Despite his family’s high position, they’d never had much to do with this office. The last time he had been there had also been the first, when he and Iris had gone to collect their father’s corpse. The highest-ranked official had met them at the foyer, along with a pretty coffin and a well-rehearsed speech about how brave Clarus Amicitia had been, and how he had died well in the name of humanity. Gladio had ended up spending more time staring at the sparse architecture of the entry hall because it was easier than watching Iris’s expression when they were told that their father’s sacrifice would not be in vain, a lie that all of them recognized but found easier to live with than challenge.

It had been the worst day of his life. Yet somehow, as he was led through the dimly lit hallways, this visit was shaping up to be far more terrible.

“I can’t believe he’s letting you do this,” his guide muttered, as they passed the throngs of soldiers that seemed to take up every inch of the building. Prior to the Chancellor’s arrival, the office had been sparsely occupied, but now it seemed like an entire army contingent had taken up residence. And all of them watched him with the same suspicion and contempt that his guide showed, their dark looks following him as they descended below ground. “Doesn’t he know a blood traitor like you can’t be trusted?”

_Blood traitor_. As far as he knew, Ardyn hadn’t spread the word of what he and Ignis had been, but he didn’t need to when the soldiers who had accompanied him had done the job for him. So far it seemed limited to the army, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the entire town knew before long as well.

It didn’t bother him nearly as much as it once would have.

“You have your orders,” he replied shortly, glad that his father had taught him how to issue commands that left no room for argument. He didn’t want to talk to this man, even if he shared his disbelief over the Chancellor’s ready agreement when after six days of agonized debate, he had finally asked Ardyn to see the fae. He’d almost taken it back when the man looked delighted by his request, like he had been waiting for this moment all along. _Perhaps you can talk some sense into him_ , Ardyn had suggested, although not out of any kindness or concern. _Perhaps you can show him what is best for him._

Like he had any idea what was best for anyone.

They stopped before a door, guarded by so many men that there was barely room for them to move aside so that his guide could unlock the door. He was quickly ushered in, and he had no sooner walked across the threshold when the door was slammed and barred shut.

The small room was dimly lit, the faint glow illuminating a thin mattress shoved into one corner and a bucket in the opposite end. For a brief moment, he wondered if this was how the Empire dealt with blood traitors like him, locking them away to rot. Then he could only wish that was the case, when he heard the slightest hitch of breath to his left, and turned to find Ignis sitting on the ground.

The fae was still beautiful, but even in the dull light, Gladio could see that he was not at all _right_. Just as plants did not do well in stone settings, neither, apparently, did fae; something about him seemed to have faded, like the darkness itself was sapping his strength. If it was only that, it would have been bad enough already, but it wasn’t. His glasses had been taken, showing off the livid bruise across his right cheekbone, and his wrists bore angry red marks, like he had struggled against the bindings that still encircled them. He was wearing the same clothes he had been nearly a week back, and they were ripped and torn to reveal other shallow wounds. Around one ankle was a shackle, the other end of the chain was crudely wedged into the wall because this room was never meant to be a prison cell, especially for someone like him.

Gladio stood there, not sure what to say – what he _could_ say – meaning that as always, it was Ignis who bore the burden of breaking the silence.

“I will not tell you where he is,” he said, the words as crisp and clear as always, his tone leaving no room for argument or protest. But there was a ragged edge to his voice, even as he continued determinedly, “You will get nothing from me.”

“I’m not here for that.”

Slowly, the fae looked up at him, his eyes struggling to focus in a way that suggested something more serious than the loss of his glasses. Surprise and wariness flickered briefly across his pale face, and while it was quickly contained and banished beneath a glacial cold, it was enough for Gladio to realize that Ignis hadn’t known it was him until he had spoken.

“Gladiolus,” he said quietly, struggling to get to his feet but hampered by both chains and injury. Instinctively, Gladio reached towards him to help him get up, but was stopped by a single glance. He dropped back, and could only watch as the fae stood with great difficulty, leaning against the wall for support. “Then what are you here for?”

“I had to see you.”

He didn’t need to see Ignis’s look of open incredulity to realize what a selfish bastard he was being. Maybe he needed to see the fae again, but he doubted the feeling was mutual after what he had done. Ignis had saved him, opened up to him, and _cared_ for him… and in return, he’d handed the fae over to Ardyn to be put in a cell and tortured. Because that was what has happening, even if Ardyn had scrupulously avoided saying the word out loud (despite how willing he was to say everything else), and he had always known it would come to this.

It was why it had taken him so long to come here because he could avoid it then, telling himself that they wouldn’t actually go to such lengths for the information they wanted. That they would treat Ignis with the dignity and respect that he deserved, not like the animal that all fae were viewed as. But just like the official’s lie that his father’s death was for a greater purpose, this was one too, and at a certain point he knew he couldn’t run away from it anymore. He had to face it, to face _Ignis_ , and try to explain himself. But seeing the fae like this made all his carefully crafted explanations sound like excuses, and when he tried to speak, he found that he couldn’t say anything at all.

But Ignis wasn’t about to let him escape so easily, as the fae repeated, “You had to see me.” He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath like he was deciding between hitting him and laughing at how pathetic he was. What came next was worse. “Why? So you could torment yourself further?”

Gladio stared, thrown less by the question than the lack of emotion. Instead, the fae continued, “You did this for a reason, I assume. Your sister?”

“My sister,” he confirmed numbly. “He threatened to kill her.” Except it wasn’t just about her life, although of course that had made the choice easier. It was for the chance that she would not have to bury her brother or her children and grandchildren, that she could grow up with them by her side rather than in a grave to put flowers on each blood-soaked year. Iris was the most important person in the world to him, and he would do anything to keep her safe, just as Ignis would do anything to keep Noct safe.

In that moment, he knew that Ignis understood why he had done it. After all, the fae had spent nearly ten years living alone to keep watch over his brother, killing gods know how many people to keep them from finding the prince. Ignis understood, but that understanding didn’t feel like the absolution he had secretly been searching for. Instead, it felt like a stab to the heart because how was it that even now, Ignis could offer him this chance to justify himself when it had cost the fae so much?

But understanding wasn’t the same as forgiveness, as Ignis turned away. “Well,” he murmured, his voice slipping back to that cool, faintly condescending tone that Gladio had become so familiar with when he had first woken up in the fae’s bed. “Now that you have explained yourself, you can be on your way.”

“That’s…” he felt so helpless, not knowing what to say, and he knew that Ignis would not help him out this time. “That’s not all I’m here for.”

“Isn’t it?” The fae sounded politely skeptical at best, as he looked back at him. “What else could you possibly want from me?”

It was hard not to flinch at that question, particularly when he didn’t have an answer. To be frank, he had never thought he would even manage to get this far, whether it was because Ardyn would refuse his request or because Ignis would refuse to hear him out, as was his right. But now that he was here, he knew explaining himself was never going to be enough, which might have been why he blurted out, “Why didn’t you just kill me?”

The fae frowned. “You did see me try, didn’t you?”

To his surprise, it didn’t seem like Ignis was trying to deter him from asking. Instead, the fae seemed honestly confused by the question. He almost doubted himself then, thinking that maybe he had just seen what he had wanted to see, but he dismissed it quickly. Ignis could easily have sliced his throat open, but he hadn’t because: “You hesitated. You had your dagger at my neck, and you _hesitated_.”

“Would you have preferred if it I had not?” Ignis asked, far too reasonably. “In any case, what purpose would your death have served? We were surrounded by then, and I could not have escaped, whether or not I took your life.”

“You didn’t know that at the time,” he pointed out. “Or are you saying that you would have killed those soldiers anyway?”

Ignis shrugged. “I’m not a saint. Is it not as you said? I might have murdered other innocent people, in protecting Noct. Why would this be any different?”

Maybe the fae was being honest. Maybe he had killed those soldiers out of anger, desperation, or maybe for no real reason at all. He didn’t think Ignis was the bloodthirsty type, but with the sting of betrayal so fresh and his home being burned to the ground, most people would probably lash out too. But then he remembered the young soldier who had looked so damned scared before the fae had killed him. No. Ignis had no reason to care about others, but he wasn’t the type to take a life unnecessarily. A mistake was one thing, but going out of his way to kill those soldiers just because he was upset? That wasn’t like him, so why was he even trying to imply otherwise?

He could think of one reason.

“You’re avoiding the question,” he said.

“And what is the question exactly?”

Gladio didn’t reply. He didn’t need to because they both knew what he was asking, and it was only a matter of whether Ignis wanted to respond, to open himself up again after all the hurt he had already suffered. Half of him expected the fae to withdraw from him, while the other half waited for Ignis to yell at the guards to remove him from the cell, and all of him was surprised when Ignis finally said, “I didn’t want to kill you. If I didn’t have to end your life, I wasn’t going to.”

“But why?” he asked. “After I betrayed you like that, how could you-”

“You have to ask?” Ignis cut off, his eyes never leaving his. That was one thing that had not been marred by being in this place, at least, the fae’s eyes still that stunning, otherworldly green. “It’s not often I want something for myself, outside of my duty to Noct, and for good reason it seems. Yet somehow you became one of those things. A weakness on my part, perhaps, but one I will not have to regret for long.”

Gladio’s throat tightened, his mind struggling to comprehend Ignis’s words. Of course he knew that the fae cared for him, but what was being thrown out so casually suggested something so much more, and he didn’t… he didn’t know how to respond because it seemed so unreal, as they faced each other in this dark cell that he had _put Ignis in_. And despite that, the words coming out the fae’s mouth sounded almost like a confession, the last words of a condemned man because-

“They’re going to keep hurting you,” he said desperately. “If you won’t tell Ardyn where Noct is, it’s just going to get worse.”

“Yes,” Ignis acknowledged readily, as if he had not just admitted his feelings, as if Gladio had not just _ignored_ his declaration. “The Chancellor is desperate, as he knows Noct is at his most vulnerable while he sleeps in the Crystal. The longer this drags out, the more likely it is that Noct will wake up, and then they will have to contend with both him and the power of the gods.”

“He said he’d let you live.” How could he dare to sound so pleading now? “If you cooperate, he said he could spare you.”

“And then what would I do? Be with you?” The question wasn’t scornful, although it easily could have been, but that only made it more painful when Ignis gazed at him, unwavering. “No. I will not give up my prince, not even for you. I would die first, before it comes to that.”

Any thought of persuading the fae otherwise quickly faded as Gladio just looked helplessly back. He knew he would never be able to change Ignis’s mind, and he didn’t even want to try. How could he even think to take Noct away from him, after everything else he’d taken?

There was only one thing he could do now, as he said again, “I’m sorry.” Once again, the words were so inadequate, when he had so much to be apologizing for.

Ignis sighed. “Yes, I heard you the last time around.”

“I mean it,” he insisted.

“Does it change anything?”

He remembered when the fae asked him that question before, as they ate dinner together and talked about recipes and ages. With that question, he had realized that the thing that mattered most to him about Ignis was Ignis himself, and the pounding of his heart as he finally recognized that he was starting to care for the fae. He cared for him now too, so much so that it was like a physical wound to see him like this, to know that Ignis would likely die here, whether because Ardyn’s men went too far or because the fae managed to get the job done first. And Gladio could not stop any of it, especially not with empty apologies that would change nothing at all.

Ignis was kind enough not to make him respond, or maybe he was just tired as the fae slowly slid back to the ground, like he lacked the strength to stay standing any longer.

“You should leave, Gladiolus,” he said, as his eyes closed, unable or simply unwilling to look at him any longer. “And I think it would be best for us both if you didn’t come back.”

* * *

Gladio couldn’t remember much of what happened when he left the cell, other than the bang of the door being shut and his being shoved in what he assumed was the direction of the exit. Without an order from the Chancellor, no one was willing to guide him this time, so he was left to stumble through the building on his own. He moved as if in some sort of nightmare, although the judgmental glares of the soldiers was nothing compared to what he was leaving behind. He didn’t know how to stop moving either, not until he abruptly found himself in an empty hall.

He stood there, staring blankly at the walls that were devoid of any decoration. Here, Ignis’s words could really sink in, the admission that the fae….

Gladio swallowed hard. Ignis hadn’t gone so far as to say it out loud, but how could he mistake the sentiment for anything else? It wasn’t like it had come out of nowhere, considering what the fae had said to him that night that felt so very long ago, before everything had gone to shit ( _I have never felt this way of anyone, except_ you). Back then, he hadn’t known how someone like Ignis could ever feel that way about him, and he was even more confused now because the fae should _hate_ him. The fact that he didn’t was unbearable, to the point that Gladio hadn’t been able to respond when Ignis had practically told him that he-

“Is he alright?”

He whipped around to stare at the soldier, and his eyes widened as he recognized him as the one who had shot Ignis. Hatred swelled in him, desperate as he was to blame someone other than himself, but it quickly faded as he noticed how damn _young_ the kid looked. He was probably even younger than the one the fae had killed, with enough freckles to rival a smallpox epidemic and blonde hair that resembled a chocobo’s ass. More than that, he seemed so desperately _sincere_ , and it took Gladio some time to remember that the soldier had asked him a question.

“I’m-” He stopped. No. The kid hadn’t asked about him, he’d asked… “Who are you talking about?”

“Ignis,” the soldier said, and when Gladio just gaped at him in utter disbelief, he clarified. “The fae?”

“I know who you’re talking about,” he snapped, although he regretted the harshness when the soldier seemed to shrink in on himself. It really was like kicking a baby chocobo, and even if he was the one who had taken Ignis out, he had only been finishing the job that Gladio himself had started. Besides, this was the first person who had even pretended to give a damn about the fae’s well-being, so he took in a deep breath to calm himself, before saying a little more evenly, “He’s not doing great. Why do you even want to know?”

“Oh, well….” The soldier glanced around, his bright blue eyes scanning the hallways. Gladio thought it was weird, considering how the only people around should have been the other men in his contingent, until the kid said, “It’s just that… sometimes I bring him his meals, and the first time they told me to do it, I was so scared that he was going to attack me because aren’t they supposed to be feral or something? But he was just polite. I mean, he never says much but he’s always way nicer than a lot of the guys here, and he just wasn’t what I was expecting. And I was wondering if maybe it’s because what they’re saying is true, that he’s part-human?”

The soldier actually looked hopeful, like he really thought Gladio could explain to him why Ignis wasn’t the monster that he was supposed to be. It almost made him want to snap at him again, until he remembered that he had been that kid not so long ago. It was engrained in all of them because they were taught to hate the fae as soon as they were old enough to think, to believe that they were not just the enemy but creatures that had to be wiped out if humanity was to live on. Except was humanity really worth keeping around? He had no doubt that the men who were torturing Ignis enjoyed it, probably saw it as some type of divine retribution for the comrades that had been lost in this war. Even if they weren’t trying to get information from him, they’d probably hurt him all the same, and think themselves righteous in the process.

Not that the fae were any better. It took two sides to wage a war like this, and it wasn’t like they had made Ignis’s life easy either. They had tormented him even though he was just a child, and it had only ended because the king had seen to put him to use, although he would bet that even then they’d only just tolerated him. Honestly, maybe humans and the fae deserved each other, both with their ugly, cruel sides that manifested so sharply whenever they were dealing with anyone they deemed different.

It was amazing that Ignis didn’t just hate all of them. Well, he probably did, but that somehow hadn’t stopped him from loving the fae prince as a brother, or from saving him because he had been kind and stupid enough to save an anak calf. It hadn’t stopped him from putting his life on the line for Noct, or from loving Gladio despite his betrayal.

His mind came to a complete halt, as finally, _finally_ he could no longer avoid the word that the fae hadn’t been able to say out loud, the word that he couldn’t even think about because it was _Ignis_. Ignis, who was a contradiction given physical form, selfless and considerate, but with an unforgiving wit and cold practicality that would dissuade anyone from thinking he was weak. His touch was soft but steadfast, and his hands were gentle but with the ability to summon enough fire to burn the world to the ground. For Ignis was, without a doubt, _deadly_ ; Gladio had seen it for himself when the fae had killed that garulessa, when he had made clear where his loyalties lay, when he had killed all those soldiers without batting an eye. The darkness lurking beneath that unfailingly polite exterior should have been terrifying, but it was simply a part of who the fae was, and just one more reason why Gladio had never allowed himself to seriously consider the possibility that he could mean anything remotely important to Ignis.

Even after the fae had told him not to doubt his feelings, he always had because the fae could do better. Ignis should have someone who would love him the way he loved Noct, who would prioritize him over anything else. Who would do everything in his power to stop what was happening now, not just shut down and walk away from it. Who, when faced with the closest thing to a profession of love that the fae could offer, would actually be able to say the words to him, would actually be able to admit that he loved him too and-

Oh.

And that was when Gladio realized that he was in love with the fae, and that he may have missed out on his only opportunity to tell him that because he was too caught up in his own guilt and self-pity to be able to acknowledge his own feelings.

In that moment, he wanted to scream, to slam his fist into the wall, to go back down there and tell Ignis that he was sorry for being an idiot, that he heard the fae and felt the same damn way. Because maybe he had Iris and Ignis had Noct, but that shouldn’t have to mean that they couldn’t still have each other, even if they couldn’t put each other first. It didn’t change the depth of his feelings or how much he cared, how much he wanted to hold the fae in his arms and never let go because he loved him, and he probably had ever since the first time the fae had called him an idiot in that maddeningly beautiful voice of his.

He couldn’t do any of those things though. Yelling wouldn’t help anyone, hitting the wall would probably just bring soldiers raining down on his useless head, and he’d definitely get killed before he could get within a hundred feet of that cell again. But there was one thing he could do, as he finally remembered that he wasn’t the only one here, that somehow this kid with his ridiculously earnest expression was still waiting for him to tell him why Ignis was so much better than all of them combined.

“No,” he said hoarsely. “No, it’s not because he’s half-human, or because he’s half-fae. It’s because he’s Ignis.”

The soldier looked a bit stunned by his response, and maybe a little disappointed too, but Gladio didn’t have time to spare his feelings. “Look...” he paused, as he realized he had no idea what the kid’s name was. “What’s your name?”

The soldier shuffled nervously, like he was maybe trying to figure out a nice way of getting out of this because he had never meant for it to get this far. If he had tried to leave, Gladio would have left him, but instead the kid looked at him, and his voice was quiet but steady. “Prompto. I’m Prompto.”

He nodded. “Right. Listen, Prompto. I get it, alright? I know what it’s like, to grow up being told they’re monsters and then finally having to deal one who is anything but. And you want to hate him because you know that’s what you’re supposed to do and because if you don’t, then everything you’ve been told is a lie. But at a certain point, you’ve got to decide for yourself what is right and wrong. You need to decide who Ignis is, not just because of what he is but based on your own interactions with him and your own judgment. And if you can come to see him like I do, then please. Please do whatever you can to help him.”

“I-” Prompto bit his lip, looking not a little out of his depth, and Gladio couldn’t blame him. But to his credit, Prompto just swallowed and nodded, somehow managing to look both utterly terrified and determined at the same time. “Alright, I hear you. But… what are you going to do now?”

“Me?” Gladio smiled grimly. “Trust me, it’s best not to ask.”

That way, no one could make him give up information that he never had in the first place.

* * *

The damage to the home was mostly superficial, as Ignis had put out the fire before it could spread too far. Gladio still grimaced when he saw the twisted lump of metal melted on the windowsill, the sad remains of the wind chimes that had he had woken to during simpler times (not that they had always felt that way, especially when he was still struggling to reconcile Ignis with everything the fae were supposed to be). He had never wanted things to go this way, but now that it had, there was only one thing he could do if he wanted to help the fae.

The inside of the home smelled of smoke, but otherwise it was intact. Ardyn hadn’t even bothered to send his men through it, possibly because he suspected that Ignis would not be so foolish as to write anything down that could lead to the prince’s location, but probably because the Chancellor was a bastard who preferred to torture Ignis for the information he so wanted. Gladio also didn’t think that the fae would write anything down, but there had to be something in his possessions that might lead to… something. _Anything_. Whether it was Noct or the fae king or the Astrals or a fairy godmother or even a godsdamn magical frog who owed Ignis three wishes, he needed someone who could help because he _couldn’t do this alone_. And maybe this was a long-shot but it was the only thing he could think of, and he couldn’t just stand around and do nothing again because Ignis’s life depended on this, depending on him not being completely useless-

A shadow fell across the room. Gladio whipped around, and found himself staring at a completely unfamiliar figure standing in the doorway. His skin was paler than even Ignis’s and contrasted sharply with the pitch-black hair that fell messily in his face, but it didn’t hide the ears that came to that now familiarly distinct point.

Blue eyes that were bright as the summer sky stared at him, momentarily confused, before they narrowed and the fae snarled, “Who the hell are you, and where the _fuck_ is Ignis?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot with this chapter, and I’m really not that happy with it. It’s a bit too internal and rambling, and so incredibly corny even for a fairy tale-esque fic, and argh it frustrates me so much.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You’re him,” he said. “You’re Noc-” Clearly those lessons in manners Ignis had tried to instill had not stuck because the rest of his words were lost in the clash of steel against steel, as Gladio brought up his greatsword just in time to avoid being run through by the fae’s blade, its edge still sparking with magic. “_ Fuck _, will you stop trying to kill me and listen already?”_

Gladio watched the fae warily, fighting back the impulse to reach for the greatsword strapped to his back. _Never draw your weapon unless you intend to use it_ , his father had always said because once you did, it was nearly impossible to back down from the fight you were starting. Right now, he wasn’t sure he wanted this fight, although there were a lot of reasons to have one: the newcomer looked hostile to borderline murderous, his right hand tightly gripping a sword, and more to the point he was a _fae_ and even now Gladio couldn’t stop himself from instinctively thinking of them all as the enemy.

But hard as it was, his blade stayed where it was as he put his hands up, making the same pacifying gesture that Ignis had all those weeks ago. “Okay, let’s just calm down and-”

-and then he was ducking out of the way, a sword buried in the wood behind where his head had been not so very long ago.

“Where _is_ he?” the fae demanded like he hadn’t just tried to fucking _impale_ him, and exactly how the hell was he expecting to get any answers if he’d actually succeeded?

He didn’t get the chance to point that out, as the sword disappeared in a shower of blue crystals, reappearing a split-second later in the fae’s outstretched hand. It was the same magic that Ignis had used to summon his lance and daggers, but while his use of the magic was impressive enough, it was nothing compared to what Gladio was seeing now. With this fae, the magic felt more natural, almost organic, like it was a part of his very blood.

It was the very last thing he wanted to hear right now, the Chancellor’s oily voice murmuring, _It lacked the purity of a full-blooded fae, yet contained the extraordinarily destructive power associated with only the royal family and the select few most loyal to them._ But if this was the magic that Ardyn had spoken of, and it definitely _felt_ like it, then that could mean only one thing.

“You’re him,” he said. “You’re Noc-” Clearly those lessons in manners Ignis had tried to instill had not stuck because the rest of his words were lost in the clash of steel against steel, as Gladio brought up his greatsword just in time to avoid being run through by the fae’s blade, its edge still sparking with magic. “ _Fuck_ , will you stop trying to kill me and _listen_ already?”

“Not until you tell me where Ignis is!” Noct yelled back, but now he could clearly hear the anxiety and fear underpinning the simmering anger. “What did you do to him?!”

For a second, his own grip on the greatsword faltered, the question sending him back to that dark cell and Ignis’s grim resignation to his fate. Noct took quick advantage of his momentary weakness, pushing forward with more force than those skinny arms should have been capable of. But then Gladio remembered why he was here because maybe Ignis had resigned himself, but he sure as hell hadn’t because he still needed to tell the fae how he _felt_.

Gladio planted his feet, using all of his strength to drive the prince back, causing him to stumble ever so slightly. It was all the opening he needed; before Noct could regain his balance, he was running for the door. Maybe it made him look like a coward but that was the last thing he was worried about. Noct was strong, despite looking like a sulky teenager, and he needed to get out into the open where he could actually swing his greatsword if he was going to have any chance of keeping himself alive long enough to talk some sense into the fae.

Also, he didn’t think Ignis would appreciate coming back to a home with three-quarters of his possessions destroyed by their fight.

He’d barely made it halfway to the garden when a spear landed no more than a foot in front of him, and then Noct was there, the air around him shimmering blue. Gladio hadn’t even processed the sudden appearance when the prince lashed out, the kick hitting him just below the ribs and sending him flying backwards. He just managed to stay upright and keep his hold on his weapon, which was what saved him when the fae appeared just as abruptly at his side, the twin daggers that Ignis favored heading right for his chest. He managed to block one, but the other scored a long gash across his arm, the wound a fiery sting through the muscle.

But he’d suffered far worse before, and not too long ago besides, so he just let the pain wash over him as he grabbed Noct by the arm. The prince made a surprised, angry sound as Gladio pulled him close, snapping, “Stop fighting me already! I don’t want to hurt you, I just need you to-”

The sword appeared in Noct’s hand, and Gladio tightened his hold so that the prince wouldn’t have room to use it against him. Except then he found himself holding nothing at all, and he jerked backwards, following the trail of that strange magic to the roof of Ignis’s home where Noct was now kneeling, smirking at him smugly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, not sure if he was referring to the fact that the fae could apparently _warp_ or the dawning realization that the person Ignis was willing to die for was a _godsdamn asshole_. But the shit-eating grin faded pretty damn quickly because the fire had apparently caused more damage that he had thought, as the roof collapsed under the fae’s weight and sent Noct plummeting into the house.

Well. So much for not completely destroying Ignis’s home.

Ignoring the protests of his aching limbs, Gladio ran towards the wreckage, hoping that Noct hadn’t broken his stupid neck because he was pretty sure Ignis would not be happy with that. Inside (or at least what _used_ to be inside), the sofa was now covered in wood and dust, as well as one disoriented, violent fae who blinked dumbly at the newly created skylight in the roof like he had no idea how that had happened.

“You okay?” he asked gruffly, causing the prince to jerk upright. But either the fall had managed to quell some of his bloodlust or had just given him a concussion because Noct didn’t make any move to attack, instead watching him suspiciously as he sidled closer. “You’re Noct, right?”

The prince stiffening was all the confirmation he needed, but at least he continued to stay put. “Where’s Ignis?”

“The Empire has him,” he replied slowly, not wanting to set off the fae again. Ignis had long made clear that he was willing to kill and die for the prince, and judging from the fierce protectiveness whenever Noct asked after the other fae, the sentiment was not one-sided. “I need your help to get him out.”

Noct glared at him. “Why would you do that? You’re human.”

“That’s a fact, not an explanation.” The prince’s surprise made him look impossibly young, and Gladio had to wonder how many times Ignis had been forced to say those exact words to everyone who judged him based solely on what he was. “He saved me, alright? He didn’t need to but he saved me, and I… I have to get him out of there.”

“You owe him.”

“That’s-” He stopped because while it was true that he owed Ignis, putting it in those terms seemed to diminish everything that the fae had done for him. It diminished what Ignis _was_ to him. But they didn’t have time to debate semantics, so he just nodded. “Yeah, fine. I owe him, whatever you want to call it. Now are you going to help me or not?”

The look Noct gave him was more than a little knowing, and he was starting to think that maybe he hadn’t given the brat enough credit. “Where are they keeping him?”

He tried not to sound too eager. “The Empire has a building in my hometown, about a day and a half’s travel from here. He’s being held in one of the underground rooms.”

“Great.” The fae pushed himself up, his movements still a little stiff and awkward from his fall. “Thanks for the information. I’ll let him know you said hi.”

Wait, what? “Now hold on a minute. You’re not going without me.”

“Yeah, I am,” Noct replied, his attention more focused on brushing the dust off his clothing than the conversation they were having. “You said you need my help, but that doesn’t mean I need yours.”

“You’re going to find the town all on your own,” he said flatly. “Do you even know where you are now?”

The prince stopped for just a second, which answered that question. Shit, was this what he had been like when Ignis had found him trying to sneak away in the middle of the night (dawn, it was right before _dawn_ , his brain tried to remind him)? No wonder the fae had been so exasperated with him. “You could draw me a map.”

“Not happening.” Seriously, what the hell was it with people thinking he was a cartographer? And even if he was capable of that – and he definitely wasn’t – he wasn’t going to let Noct go out there on his own. He’d seen for himself how strong the prince was, but he wasn’t sure if it was enough when it came to Ardyn. “Ignis told me what you were doing these past ten years, getting the power of the gods from the Crystal. So I get that you’ve got some impressive powers, but the Chancellor, the one who’s keeping Ignis? He’s not… there’s something _wrong_ with him.”

Noct huffed, thoroughly unimpressed with his fumbling explanation. “The gods gave me the power to destroy the Accursed, an immortal being who is threatening to destroy the world. This Chancellor is just some human. I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t,” he snapped. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but-”

“You’re right,” Noct cut off. “I don’t have any reason to believe you. You show up here to tell me that my friend has been taken by your people, and then you demand to go with me because some Chancellor has got you worked up? How do I know this isn’t a trap? Why should I ever trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” Gladio said flatly. “Because it’s my fault he’s their prisoner.”

He didn’t move when he felt the soft rush of the dagger landing in the wall next to him, immediately followed by an enraged fae holding the other dagger to his throat. If he’d thought Noct looked murderous before, it was nothing compared to his expression now as he snarled, “Are you kidding me? You said he saved you, and you… you _betrayed_ him? How could you do that to him?!”

He almost didn’t respond because what was there to say? What he had done was unforgivable, and he could understand why Noct wanted to kill him right here and now. But getting himself killed wasn’t going to help Ignis, and the fae needed him to guide Noct more than he needed him dead because of his guilt. “My sister. The Chancellor threatened to kill my sister.”

Noct was silent, although his eyes didn’t lose any of their anger and he didn’t lower the dagger. Finally, the prince leaned close and growled, “He’s like a brother to me. He’s like a brother to me, and if he dies because of you, I don’t care why you did it. I swear I will cut your throat.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, not even flinching at the threat. “But now we need to get a move on. It’s going to take over a day to get to the town, and we’ve wasted-”

“It’s not going to take that long,” Noct interrupted coolly, letting the daggers fade. “Give me your sword.”

He’d barely started to ask why when the prince reached over, not actually interested in getting permission. In a flash, the greatsword disappeared in the now familiar blue crystals, and he was still gaping when Noct said, “Which direction is this town?”

“That way-” Gladio started to say as he pointed, and before he knew what was happening, Noct had grabbed his wrist and he felt a harsh yank, flinging him forward into a burst of light.

* * *

They reappeared a distance away. Gladio couldn’t be bothered to figure out where exactly as he stumbled forward, practically walking into the first tree he saw and wrapping his arms around it to keep himself steady. Every organ felt like it had been rearranged and then put back together, and to say he felt sick would be a complete and utter understatement.

“Best to just let it out,” Noct advised from behind him. “It’s not pleasant but it’s better than trying to hold it in. Specs learned that the hard way.”

“Specs?” he asked, although the question was nearly lost in the tree bark his face was currently pressed against.

“Oh. I mean Ignis,” the prince mumbled, obviously not having meant to let the nickname slip. He didn’t dwell on it long though, continuing, “But like I was saying. Everyone has the same reaction that you’re having when they first warp, even fae. So you should just give in because-”

Gladio didn’t bother listening to the rest of what Noct had to say as he dropped to his knees and threw up. It was as horrible as he remembered even though he hadn’t thrown up in years. In fact, the last time he had been this sick, he could remember his mother holding his hair back as she whispered comforting words, and when he had finished, she’d pressed a cold towel against his face and carried him to bed.

Noct was definitely not his mother, but he did wait patiently until Gladio staggered back to his feet. “Astrals. Is it going to be like this every time?”

“You get used to it,” the prince replied with little sympathy. “It took Ignis ages though. He’s better at it now, but he still refuses to warp if he doesn’t have to.”

That sounded like the fae, although he bet Ignis could make even vomiting look classy. “He doesn’t like having any weaknesses, does he?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Noct said quietly, before he looked away. “Now which way?”

His heart lurched at the thought of another warp, especially when he realized where they were and that they still had a ways to go. Which meant quite a few more warps. But he had wasted enough time already, so he again pointed in the direction they needed to go, trying not to wince as Noct took hold of his arm.

Still, as he felt the beginning tugs of the warp, the thought of Ignis being bad at anything made him feel a little better, even if his stomach still felt like it was trying to claw out of his body by way of his esophagus.

* * *

Gladio had thrown up six more times by the time they were in sight of his town, which was an amazing feat given that he wasn’t even sure he had a stomach left by the third warp. Noct didn’t bother with checking to see if he was still functional, already striding towards the town.

“Wait,” Gladio said, his voice not more than a harsh rasp. “You can’t just go charging in there. The townspeople, they’re… you can’t hurt them. They’re not a part of this.”

Noct didn’t say anything. He didn’t even turn to look at him, the only indication that he’d even heard the words being that he had stopped. Gladio wondered if he had made a mistake, bringing the fae here and putting his entire town at risk. He didn’t know Noct, didn’t know what he was capable of. Maybe he loved Ignis like a brother, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a war going on, and just as he saw the fae as the enemy, didn’t the reverse hold true as well? What was a human life to a fae, especially one of royal blood? Noct had made clear he would kill Gladio to avenge Ignis, so what would the fae do to _save_ his friend?

“I won’t hurt them if you swear me an oath.”

He breathed in sharply, not sure what he could possibly offer to a prince. “Go on.”

“After this, you’re going to stay the hell away from him,” Noct said, finally turning to look at him. In that moment, Gladio no longer saw the sulky teenager but true royalty, a ruler who could command the unwavering respect of his subjects and in exchange, would do anything in his power to keep them safe. “You don’t get to hurt him again. He’s been hurt enough already without you adding to it.”

He automatically started to protest, but then his jaw snapped shut so forcefully that he might have thought it was magic if he was still in any position to blame others for his decisions. He wasn’t. Sure, he could have pointed out that it wasn’t Noct’s decision but Ignis’s, and that prince or not, he didn’t have the right to dictate his friend’s life. But then they wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for his choices, if he hadn’t made the decision to take Ardyn to Ignis to protect Iris. Noct might not have the right to demand this of him, but the demand itself wasn’t something he could deny. He loved the fae, but it hadn’t stopped him from hurting him and putting his life in danger.

“Fine,” he said quietly, and it was so much harder to agree to this than to the prince’s prior threat to kill him. But he’d given up Ignis once for his town and his sister, he supposed he could do it again. “You have my word.”

He expected Noct to look satisfied, maybe even a bit smug again, but the fae just nodded stiffly before his expression darkened, eyes narrowing at something behind him as he summoned a sword. Or, as it turned out, some _one_.

“Lord Amicitia!” It still took him too long to realize that he was the one being addressed, and once he finally did, Prompto had practically flung himself between the two of them, causing Noct to jump back in shock. The soldier didn’t even seem to notice the fae as he hunched over, hands resting on his knees as he tried to regain his breath before he looked up at Gladio, eyes wide. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! He took him, he _took_ him and you have to do something because he said he’s going to-”

“Slow down,” he said, grabbing Prompto by the shoulders as Noct inched forward, frowning. “Slow down and breathe, and then start over.”

Prompto gulped in a deep breath of air. “Chancellor Izunia, he… he took Ignis not so long ago and he said he’s going to kill him. I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop him and….”

The soldier was still talking, but Gladio couldn’t hear him anymore. Ardyn had taken Ignis, but why would he do that? Did he somehow know they were coming? But why would Ardyn want to kill Ignis now? What would that even accomplish, if he wanted information from the fae? The Chancellor didn’t seem like the impulsive type, but he also didn’t seem like the kind to make empty threats, so if what Prompto was saying was true….

“Where did he take him?” Noct asked. Prompto turned, letting out a surprised sound as he realized that they were not alone. Gladio waited for the fae to lose his temper again, but the prince said with a calm that none of them actually felt, “If you tell us where they went, we can still get there in time.”

_You don’t know that_ , Gladio wanted to say, but he didn’t because they needed to believe what Noct was saying. They needed to still have a chance.

“You’re…” the soldier swallowed nervously, staring at the fae. Gladio half-expected him to lose it all over again, as he fought back that gut reaction to treat the fae as the enemy. But to his surprise, Prompto just asked, “You’re Noctis, aren’t you?”

Noctis? He frowned, not sure where that had come from, but now wasn’t the time to ask as the prince just nodded. “Yeah. And you’re…?”

“Oh. Prompto,” the kid said, as if he was surprised that Noct would care enough to ask him for his name. But that simple act of courtesy was apparently enough for Prompto to compose himself as he nodded, and maybe the gesture was a little shaky but his resolve was anything but. “I can show you where they went. If we run, we might even be able to catch up.”

“We don’t have to worry about running,” Noct said, and Gladio could already feel his stomach getting ready to rebel. “Just show me the way.”

* * *

The eighth warp was no better than the first, but this time Gladio didn’t have the luxury of feeling sorry for himself as he watched Prompto fall to his knees. Ignoring the way his own world was swaying, he made his way towards the soldier, putting his hands on those thin shoulders again to steady the kid.

“Better just let it out,” he said, remembering Noct’s advice. Prompto didn’t have to be told twice, and Gladio quickly looked away to give him some privacy as the blond threw up. His eyes were immediately drawn to the fae, who to his surprise, was also on his knees. “Hey. You alright?”

His only answer was a pained gasp as Noct fell forward, just managing not to collapse completely as his hands clutched as his head. Casting a quick look at Prompto, who was still gagging but would survive, Gladio let him go to head towards the fae. “Noct-”

“Don’t touch me,” Noct ordered, the words sharp as a whip. But they were not so much angry as desperate, like the thought of physical contact was too painful to consider. “He’s close.”

“Who? Ignis?”

“No. Yes? I don’t….” The words trailed off into a pained hiss, his knuckles almost turning white from how taut they were. “The Accursed. I can feel him close by and the Astrals… they’re in my head _screaming_ because of how close he is, telling me that I have to kill him.”

Gladio couldn’t pretend to know what was going on with the fae, although he vaguely remembered Ignis explaining that the gods had plans for the prince, something that supposedly involved the fate of the world. It was why Ignis had spent ten years guarding a rock, as Noct gained the power of the gods. He’d always suspected that those powers didn’t come without a price, and now his suspicions were confirmed as he watched the prince struggle to maintain his already precarious balance, his blue eyes now flashing with a violent purple light before they squeezed shut.

But as important as the fate of the world was, Gladio also couldn’t pretend that they had time for this. Ignis was out there with Ardyn, and they had to act quickly to make sure the Chancellor wouldn’t follow through on his threat. And while he didn’t really care if Noct killed him for letting Ignis die, he knew that Noct would never forgive _himself_ either, so he grabbed Noct’s arm. Pain shot through his nerves, as if he had made the mistake of catching hold of lightning, but he gritted his teeth and held on as he shook the prince. “Pull yourself together, Noctis. We have to help Ignis.”

At the name, Noct’s eyes shot open. To his credit, the prince tried to stand, but although Gladio could see that he was really trying, he barely managed to stay upright for a second before he’d slipped back onto his knees again, growling in frustration.

_Shit_. Power of the gods or not, it didn’t mean anything if Noct couldn’t stand on his own damn feet, which meant there was only one thing he could do.

“Prompto,” he called out, and waited for the soldier to stagger over, his face still pale from the warp. “Watch over Noct. I’m going after Ardyn.”

“By yourself?” Prompto said, his skin turning even whiter at what Gladio was suggesting. “But-”

“We don’t have a choice.” He didn’t need the soldier telling him how bad an idea this was because he knew that already, but they couldn’t wait anymore. _Ignis_ couldn’t wait. “Once he gets a hold of himself, you come find us. But I’m going on ahead first.”

“Wait.” Before Gladio could tell the prince that he couldn’t delay this any longer, that he would just be dead weight if he insisted on coming along, Noct stretched out a hand and the greatsword dropped to the ground with a dull sound. It was followed by a small green bottle, which the prince fumbled for to hand to him. “It’s an elixir, the only one I have. Give it to Specs. And don’t give him a chance to refuse because he will ‘cause he likes to be a godsdamn martyr, but I know he needs it.”

He took the bottle without hesitation, pocketing it before he reached down for his weapon. By the time he straightened, Prompto was supporting Noct, whose eyes were closed again although he swore he could see that strange purple light even from behind his eyelids.

“Stay safe,” Prompto offered meekly. “Lord Amicitia.”

“Gladio,” he corrected as he hefted the greatsword over his shoulders. “Lord Amicitia was my father, and I’m not half the man he was.”

“Nothing wrong with being half-human,” Noct said, and Gladio had to admit that the brat had a point for once.

* * *

He found them at the edge of a field where he and Iris used to play, after he was old enough to protect her and they were both still young enough to be allowed some freedom from their duties to the family and humanity. The fae was on his knees, wrists bound together and the sleeves of his shirt messily rolled up, intentionally displaying the angry bruises on his arms. As for the Chancellor, Ardyn sat on a tree stump, his legs crossed and posture almost casual, if not for the small knife he held to Ignis’s throat.

“Well,” Ardyn said. “I must admit that when I let that little blond soldier go running for help, I was not expecting you, Lord Amicitia.”

Unlike the Chancellor, Ignis’s surprise was sincere, his bright green eyes widening at the sight of him. Gladio only allowed himself to lock eyes with the fae for a second, before turning his attention back to Ardyn. He had plenty of questions regarding the man’s intentions, especially with that admission that he had allowed Prompto to go looking for help, but those questions would have to come later; Ignis was the priority here.

He lifted his greatsword, pointing it at the Chancellor. It would have driven his father to fits, using a stance that left him so vulnerable to attack, but its dramatic effect was undeniable as he said lowly, “Let him go.”

Ardyn, unfortunately, chose not to get the message, his eyebrows raising as if he was amazed by Gladio’s presumptuousness. He turned to the fae, his lips curling into that hateful, mocking smile. “Is that supposed to be your knight in shining armor? A bit late to the show, don’t you think?”

“A show, is it?” Ignis asked with no little tartness, somehow managing to still be a right bastard despite looking like he had been dragged to hell and back. “And who is this show supposed to be for, when you saw fit to move us to this remote location?”

For someone who complained so much about Gladio’s lack of self-preservation, the fae wasn’t displaying much of it either, his teeth gritting as Ardyn yanked his head back painfully. The knife dug in just enough to draw a drop of blood, the bright red standing out starkly against his skin.

“Filth,” the Chancellor said with deadly calm. “A creature like you should never have been permitted to live, let alone speak. But you may yet serve a purpose, if your screams draw your precious Noct to me.”

“I will never-”

Ardyn tightened his grip again, causing the words to fade into a pained gasp. “The choice is not yours, boy. You’ve caused me a great deal of trouble, holding out long enough for the Chosen King to be released from that thrice-damned stone. But no matter. Power of the gods or not, he’s still just a whelp, and I’ll end him wherever he may be hiding.”

“What makes you think he’s hiding?”

The Chancellor looked over at him, with the amusement usually reserved for a dog who had learned a new trick. But in a split-second, the amusement faded completely as the man abruptly stood, letting go of Ignis as all of his attention was fixed on Gladio. “ _You_. You reek of his magic.”

“Do I?” he replied, adjusting his sword in preparation for whatever Ardyn had to throw at him. “Huh. So that skinny little brat really is a prince.”

Not that he had actually doubted it, but Ignis still managed to look _offended_ on Noct’s behalf. He might have laughed at how indignant the fae looked if not for Ardyn, the Chancellor stepping forward as his voice dropped barely more to a whisper that somehow managed to carry across the field. “First a half-breed, and now a human? Must the kings of Lucis taint everything that is sacred?”

“What’s it to you?” Gladio shot back. “What do you care what the fae decide to do? They’re just the enemy, aren’t they?”

“Because it was my **right** ,” the Chancellor snapped, and suddenly, Gladio saw not a human but a monster, darkness dripping down ghostly white skin from blackened eyes, except for the unnatural gold ring of the pupils that seemed to look straight into his soul. “Do you know what they used to call me, human?”

No, and he had a feeling he didn’t want to know because every bit of his human instinct was screaming at him to run, to save himself, but he wasn’t about to leave Ignis to deal with this fiend alone. Not again. “I bet you’re about to tell us.”

It might have been better if Ardyn had looked enraged. Anything would have been better than the way the monster’s mouth split into a ghastly grin, “Well, allow me to introduce myself then. Ardyn Lucis Caelum is my proper name.”

A soft gasp, as Ignis struggled to get to his feet despite his tied wrists. “The Founder King?”

“If only,” Ardyn said, the hideous face fading back to something that might have resembled humanity, if not for the darkness that remained in his eyes. “No, that would be my dear brother, who snatched the throne and cast me into exile a mere two thousand years back. I’ve been wandering this world since, throwing my support to the humans in the hope that they might end that foul bloodline.” He looked over at Gladio, his mouth still twisted into a smile that lacked any humor. “Alas, you humans have proven quite worthless, although occasionally you provide a modicum of entertainment with your ridiculous struggles.”

Gladio jerked back, as Ardyn’s words sunk in. Two thousand years, as long as the war had been going on. Was Ardyn the cause of the war, keeping it going for so many centuries and despite all the lives it had cost? How could one man be behind so much death, unless Ardyn was no man at all, but- “ _You’re a fae_.”

Just like Ignis, Ardyn didn’t even blink at being exposed. “Indeed. But you do me dishonor, if you were to think of me as something so ordinary.”

“The Accursed,” Ignis said, horror in his voice. “You’re the Accursed.”

“Correct!” Ardyn practically sang out, acknowledging the other fae with a tip of the hat. “Cast out by the gods for accepting the darkness and near immortal besides, such is indeed my unhappy role in this world. And since you appear to be so knowledgeable, you must know of the prophecy. The Chosen King will gain the power of the gods, and he and the Accursed will fight to the death. Of course,” the Accursed paused, taking the time to look over from Ignis to Gladio, and back again, “the prophecy never specified _whose_ deaths would be the result of that glorious battle.”

A burst of red light surrounded the Accursed, forming into the outlines of ghostly weapons. Gladio didn’t hesitate, running as fast as he could towards Ignis, who had finally managed to get to his feet but was completely defenseless. He reached the fae just before Ardyn sent the weapons flying at them with a blood-curdling laugh, and pulled the greatsword up to act as a shield against the barrage.

The greatsword was able to block most of the assault, but he knew he couldn’t block all of it. All he could do was put _himself_ between the attack and Ignis, and he grunted as the remaining weapons cut across his exposed skin and flesh. It should have done worse, but it was clear that Ardyn was toying with them, although it didn’t stop Ignis from abruptly shoving them both to the side to dodge the rest of the onslaught.

“You _idiot_ ,” Ignis yelled, looking like he wanted to strangle Gladio. “I ought to kill you myself for being so foolish!”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, using the tip of his sword to gingerly cut through the rope around the fae’s wrists. Before Ignis could yell at him some more, he pulled out the elixir and ripped the stopper off, shoving the bottle between his lips. The fae’s eyes widened in outrage, but before he could try to do something stupid like spit the potion out, Gladio crushed his mouth against Ignis’s in an awkward, frantic kiss. It didn’t taste of coffee this time, but of blood and something sickly sweet, probably whatever it was that Noct had given him. The combination was unappealing, to say the least, yet Gladio would gladly have held onto him for the rest of time because he should never have let him go in the first place.

But there was still a battle to fight, and he let Ignis go, watching as the physical wounds of the past week faded and the color returned to the fae’s cheeks, along with a faint dusting of pink that had nothing to do with the healing. That should have been enough for him, but he still wasn’t done being selfish as he looked into those bright green eyes and said, “I love you too.”

Ignis blinked, still looking slightly dazed, but then whatever he saw behind Gladio made him snap back to reality. He rose to his feet, dragging Gladio up with him, and said quietly, “Later, Gladio. We will talk about this later.”

He nodded, the lie a bitter one as Noct reminded him, _After this, you’re going to stay the hell away from him_. True to his word, there would be no later for them, but he couldn’t worry about that now. As one, they both turned back to Ardyn, who had patiently waited for them to finish even as the ethereal weapons surrounded him in a deadly ring.

“If you’re quite finished?” Ardyn asked. His patience had obviously come to an end though as without waiting for an answer, he launched the weapons towards them.

Gladio threw himself to one side while Ignis went in the other direction, and from the corner of his eye he could see the now familiar blue crystals as the fae summoned his daggers. No words needed to be said as he dodged the last remnants of the Accursed’s attack and swung his greatsword at the monster, who dodged out of the way only to be nearly cut open by Ignis’s attack.

“So coordinated,” Ardyn said, still managing to be so mocking as he side-stepped another swing of the greatsword. “Is this supposed to be the power of love? It would warm my heart, if only I had one still.”

Gladio swung his weapon again, but there was only air as the Accursed seemed to disappear, reappearing at his back because of course the bastard could warp too, even if his access to the royal magic was corrupted by hate. He turned just in time for his world to go dark, a clawed hand grabbing his face and slamming him down with inhuman strength, the force of his skull hitting the earth causing his vision to black out and his breath to be knocked away entirely.

“Stay down, if you have any sense,” he could barely hear Ardyn whisper, before he disappeared again. The world was still spinning, his head pounding in agony as he tried desperately to roll onto his front, to find his feet that he could barely feel as his body seemed completely disconnected from his brain. He almost panicked, in fear that his neck had been broken, but then he heard an all too familiar voice yell out in pain, and then he was moving, using his greatsword as support to pull himself up.

His vision was still blurry when he finally managed to lift himself to one knee, only to see Ardyn on top of Ignis, holding him down. The fae wasn’t having any of it though, striking out with a flame-covered dagger, but the Accursed just laughed as he caught hold of the blade, barely taking heed of the black blood that dripped from where its edge cut into his fingers or the fire that still licked across its length.

“That prince of yours is certainly taking his sweet time coming to your rescue,” Ardyn commented, as he leaned in close. “Perhaps it is time to expedite the process.”

Ignis tried to pull the dagger back, but Ardyn yanked it out of his grasp with no effort at all, sending drops of black liquid flying everywhere. The fire continued to burn as the Accursed looked at it almost curiously. “Fire, is it? Fitting, for one of your name.”

The fae bared his teeth, but it wasn’t enough to cover for his _fear_ as the red flames turned an unnatural purple, the air around the fire warping from the heat of it as Ardyn brought the knife close to his face.

“And deeply ironic,” the monster mused. “Tell me, can you be harmed by your namesake? Shall we find out together? It’s rather crude, I know, but needs must. As for you, if you must scream, do feel free. I think that might finally be enough to bring your dear Noct running. If he runs quickly enough, you might be lucky enough to have him be the last thing you ever see.”

“Let him _go_ ,” Gladio yelled, but it had as much effect as the last time he’d made the demand as he watched, unable to do anything as Ignis hissed, pulling away as far as he could from the fire that was so terrifyingly close to his eyes.

“You’re welcome to try and stop me,” Ardyn said, not even bothering to look up at a mere human as he continued to bring the fire closer. “But you lot have never been much good at that.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m here then.”

The fire abruptly went out as the Accursed turned, but his surprise was nothing compared to the shock as Ignis stared at the new arrival.

“ _Noct_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ardyn may be an evil bastard in this story, but he’s at least polite enough to let his opponents finish making out before he tries to maim them. (But admittedly, the last scene was basically written with my common sense going, _‘You know this is so freaking ridiculous, right?’_ while the rest of my brain basically just keysmashed and screeched back, _‘Let them have this moment of happiness, damn you!’_ )
> 
> Also, a massive thank you to everyone for your lovely comments on the last chapter. I really did worry about that one, since it really felt like it incorporated all my worst writing tendencies that I’ve been trying to get away from. I am truly very appreciative of the kind reception it got. As for this chapter, I admittedly think that the writing is more stilted than it should be (clearly the moral of this story is that I will just never be happy with anything I do). Still, I hope you enjoyed it as we head into the final chapter.
> 
> Finally, for some wonderful art of the less-than-wonderfully written final battle, please check out [this lovely work](https://ffxv-trash-can.tumblr.com/post/175857171131/remember-when-i-said-i-have-a-proper-fanart/) by ffxv-trash-can. Thank you so much!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“There’s only one way.”_
> 
> _“We can’t,” was the immediate reply, but he didn’t sound as certain as he usually did._

Noct pointed his sword at the Accursed, his grip as steady as his voice as he said, “Unhand my advisor, jester.”

Unsurprisingly, Ardyn looked about as impressed as he had been when Gladio had tried the same move. “But we were getting along so well, weren’t we?” he asked, the question apparently directed at Ignis but his attention completely on the prince, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable.

“Marvelously,” Ignis said dryly, and in an apparent effort to demonstrate exactly how appreciative he was, he kneed the Accursed in the groin. Apparently even a creature cursed by the gods as a scourge on the earth could not simply dismiss that act of violence, as Ardyn reeled back, face contorted in pain and rage. The monster recovered quickly though, throwing himself down at the other fae, but Ignis wasn’t having any of it. With a breath, he dismissed the daggers including the one still clenched in Ardyn’s hand, before shoving himself away, rolling to his side and getting back onto his feet with his usual effortless grace.

Ardyn whipped around to follow, and that might have been what saved him from getting speared in the head because that was apparently a _thing_ with Noct, throwing weapons at people’s foreheads. The Accursed smirked as the dagger flew by him to land at Ignis’s feet, but it faded as quickly as the prince did, and had not even vanished completely by the time Noct had reappeared at his friend’s side.

He might not have been as fast as Noct or even Ignis, but that didn’t stop Ardyn from going after the two. But all he managed to grab onto was a faint afterimage as Noct didn’t even hesitate, taking hold of Ignis’s wrist and flinging the dagger in Gladio’s direction. It was hard not to automatically dodge the attack, despite knowing that the guy wasn’t really aiming at him, but he managed to stay put long enough for the two to appear right in front of him.

“Hold onto this for me, will you?” was all Noct said before Ignis was practically being deposited in his arms, allowing him to steady the fae who – honest to gods – looked slightly green.

He somehow found himself grinning, despite his skull still feeling like it might have been cracked clean in half and the even more minor fact that they were in the middle of a battle with the fate of the world at stake. “You really don’t do well with those warps, huh?”

The sour glare he got was answer enough, even if it lacked it usual acidity, but there was no time to tease Ignis because then he was pulling them both out of the way as Ardyn charged at them. The Accursed flew right past them, his focus solely on Noct, who met him head on with a greatsword that was about as large as the prince himself. Gladio could have spent hours gaping at the sight of someone as skinny as Noct wielding a weapon like that, but Ignis wasn’t nearly as impressed by the sight, pushing himself away.

He expected Ignis to throw himself back into the fight immediately, but to his surprise the fae stared straight into his eyes. “You don’t have to be a part of this, Gladiolus,” Ignis said quietly. “You could leave, and go back to your sister.”

“I could,” he agreed. And possibly he even should. He might have fought Ignis and Noct before, and even managed to survive those battles, but Ardyn was something else entirely. A mere human like him didn’t stand a chance in this fight, which was probably why Prompto was staying out of the way, the soldier understanding that their role was to stand on the sidelines, not be in the thick of battle. It also didn’t help that he was still having some trouble seeing straight, and that his limbs felt like jelly so that his grip on his greatsword was a matter of necessity, the weapon the only thing keeping him upright. But for once Ignis was wrong, to suggest that he wasn’t already a part of this. Ardyn, whatever the fuck he was, was the reason why this war had been going on for so long. He was the reason why his father and so many others were dead, and Gladio wasn’t about to turn his back on that. “And I will, after we take this bastard out.”

Ignis didn’t reply, just flashed him a look that was half-understanding and half-exasperation, before a hand rested on his forearm. He blinked, a green shimmer seeming to outline his vision, before it disappeared along with his most immediate aches and pains, allowing him to at least stand on his own.

“I thought you didn’t know any healing magic,” he said as Ignis let go to summon his daggers.

“I said I was gifted in battle magic,” Ignis corrected. “This is a temporary fix at best, but it will have to do if you insist on coming. Still, do try to avoid being stabbed, will you? I would hate to give you another scar.”

“You like my scars.”

The fae just sighed and shook his head, before he was taking off, his deadly blades aglow with electricity. Gladio moved as well, but he was a lot slower than he liked. The pain might have been gone but it still felt like his energy had been sapped, although he wasn’t going to let that stop him from following Ignis wherever he went. He was at least close enough to see Ignis join the fray, Noct not even having to acknowledge his friend before they had coordinated their actions, attacking Ardyn from opposite sides.

“You’re late, Noct,” Ignis called out, and Gladio knew he wasn’t referring to the prince’s strike, which would have hit Ardyn clean through where his heart should have been if the bastard couldn’t disappear at will. Despite his chiding tone, Gladio could hear the affection beneath it, and tried not to feel unreasonably jealous.

“Ten years and the first thing you’re going to do is lecture me?” Noct replied, switching easily to some mechanical monstrosity that Gladio couldn’t reconcile as something of any practical use. The prince seemed used to it though, using the momentum of the machinery’s sudden weight to swing it at the Accursed, piercing through one of those strange red weapons and slicing him across the back. The fabric of the hideous coat split open, and the broken flesh beneath it spewed black liquid. “Besides, better late than never, right?”

Ignis didn’t pause as he sidestepped one of Ardyn’s own daggers being thrown in his direction. “Is that what you intend to tell the Council the next time you oversleep?”

Noct grunted, possibly from the force of the daggers hitting the shield that he had brought up, but more likely in exasperation from a conversation that they’d no doubt had hundreds of time before. Either way, it didn’t stop him from summoning a truly ridiculously oversized shuriken to fling at the Accursed, who dodged it effortlessly. “I already told you that I’m going to banish those old bastards.”

“And I already told _you_ the dangers of acting like a power-hungry despot. For example.” With that, Ignis, who was waiting at exactly the spot Ardyn had stepped back to, drove his pole arm through the monster’s chest. The Accursed jerked as the point of the spear went through his back, his body convulsing as he hacked up whatever passed as blood in his veins.

It didn’t last long, of course, as gold eyes wide with pain and surprise suddenly narrowed, and the creature hissed, “You honestly thought something like that will hurt me?”

Ignis’s response was to pull out a dagger to drive it home, except then Ardyn was reaching up to grab the pole arm. But rather than pull it out as most anyone _sane_ would have, he pushed it _inwards_ , catching Ignis completely off-guard and dragging him close enough to take him by the neck. Ardyn tightened his fingers, the threat of broken bones clear, but rather than act on it he turned and flung Ignis as hard as he could, his cruel laugh echoing through the air as the other fae slammed into a tree.

“Ignis!” Noct started to run towards the crumpled form, only for Ardyn to stop him with a single glance.

“Enough of that,” the Accursed said, his face that ghastly white and the foul black blood dripping from his eyes. “How long do you intend to hide behind your friends and allies? How long do you intend to hide from the powers that the gods gave you? Are you still so scared that you cannot accept your role as the Chosen King? Either face me like the prophecy dictates, or stand aside and watch me kill everyone you ever loved.”

From his own experience with Noct, he knew that the prince was as reckless as he was protective, which was why he was surprised when instead of throwing himself at the man, Noct went still, expression blank before his eyes slid shut. When he opened them a mere second later, Gladio could see the purple light in them that signified the power of the gods, and it might have given him hope that the prince would be ending this all for good, if not for the triumphant smile twisted on Ardyn’s face.

Ignis saw it too, the small knife in the Accursed’s hand being the same as the one that had been held to his neck not too long ago. The fae was struggling to get back onto his feet, ready to throw himself in front of the blade because although Noct must have seen it too, the prince wasn’t… _couldn’t_ move, too caught up in the attack he was now preparing. Ignis would do anything to save Noct, no matter the cost to himself, but even he couldn’t defy reality as it became clear that he was simply too far away even though it didn’t stop him from trying.

Ignis might have been too far away, but Gladio _wasn’t_. And although his every move still felt slow and sluggish, it was just enough, as he found himself between Ardyn and Noct, his body shielding the prince and his greatsword prepared to block any blow to his heart.

Except for once Ardyn wasn’t aiming for his heart, as he felt the blade enter his side, close to where the garulessa’s tusk had ripped through his flesh a month back.

He choked, as the agony took over all his senses, but unlike the Accursed, the blood he hacked up was a vivid red, as it splattered onto Ardyn’s dark coat.

“Now where was it?” Ardyn purred softly, so that only he could hear. The monster was pressed against him, hands still wrapped around the hilt of the knife as he made a thoughtful sound. “I believe it was right-” the blade twisted before it dragged through his flesh, and he might have been screaming except all he could hear was the roar of blood in his ears and the Accursed’s sickeningly sweet voice, “-here, wasn’t it? So fragile, you humans are. You might be able to survive one wound, but the next? Somehow, I don’t think it’ll be quite so easy for that pretty half-breed to fix you up this time. But don’t worry, he’ll be joining you soon enough, although he won’t be near as pretty when I’m through with him-”

The threat cut off in a snarl as Ardyn staggered, and Gladio stared at the dart in the monster’s neck, not able to understand where it had come from.

Ardyn turned towards the trees where the shot had come from, no doubt looking for a certain blond soldier. But although it didn’t knock him out as it had Ignis, Gladio was certain that the Accursed was moving more slowly as the poison in that shot spread through his veins. That meant it was all the more painful when Ardyn’s movement caused the knife to be ripped out from him, and then he was falling, barely noticing when he hit the ground. His own world had slowed to a crawl as his hands tried to cover the open wound, but all he could feel was the blood pouring out, as well as the faint ridges of the scar from where Ignis had burned him shut.

And then hands were pushing his away, trying to assess the harm, and he didn’t near to hear the sharp intake of breath that followed to know that it was bad. He thought he could hear people speaking in hushed whispers, but he couldn’t make out individual words despite how close they were. He couldn’t make out much of anything, as he felt the iron tang of blood choking him. He didn’t… he couldn’t… everything was fading, even the pain, and he looked up at the sky and thought he saw flashes of red and blue in the sky, like the fireworks that Iris loved to watch.

Iris. He wasn’t going to see her again, was he? It should have made him sad, but thinking was hard now, as he stared above him. Was that even real? Or was it a hallucination as death-

He felt a wet slap, not hard but desperate, and Ignis saying with forced calm, “You have to stay awake, Gladio. You-”

The words were fading too, as his mind slipped. Gladio, huh? He hadn’t heard that in a while. He blinked, wondering vaguely why there were flecks of red in his vision, and then wondering if he should care more that the red was his own, from Ignis’s hands that were stained in his blood.

“Gladio,” he thought he heard the fae say. “ _Please_ -”

He heard a damp thud, like something landing hard next to him. His head lolled to the side, more a coincidence than by any strength of his own, and saw gold and black eyes staring straight into his. They were still staring at him as the body began to dissipate, fading to black smoke.

There was another quiet sound, but he couldn’t turn to look at that. It didn’t seem to matter much anyway, as he closed his eyes and tried to remember how to breathe.

It was hard.

“Shit,” he heard a familiar voice say, but he couldn’t place it anymore. “Specs, he’s-”

“He’s going to be fine,” an accented voice said, but there was a slight tremble to it that he knew wasn’t right. “I simply require an elixir, and that should be enough to get him back to the town for proper medical treatment.”

“I don’t have one.”

The hand on his torso tightened, and for a moment it _hurt_ , until that too faded into nothingness. “No matter,” the second speaker said. “A hi-potion would likely suffice.”

“ _Ignis_.” The urgency in the voice matched only his own, as he tried to remember why that word sent a pang through his fading consciousness. “I don’t have anything.”

“What do you mean you don’t have anything?” was the sharp response, as cracks in that calm veneer began to appear.

“I gave you the only one I had.”

There was that pain again, but it disappeared even more quickly than the last time, even though he thought the hands were still there. Maybe. “Do you mean to suggest that you wasted your only means of healing on me?”

“Don’t you dare say that!” He was surprised that he could still feel anger, although it was a shadow compared to whoever was yelling. “Don’t you dare diminish yourself like that. You were dy… you _needed_ it. You needed it even if you can’t fucking admit it.”

“And what if you had needed it during the battle?” the accented voice shot back, angry as well, but it was nothing compared to the fear that seeped through every word. Scared, he was scared, why was he scared? And why did it bother him so much when not much of anything seemed to concern him now? “What if you had nearly died? We would have no way of bringing you back, and-”

“This isn’t about me!” the other voice yelled. “This is about _him_. We both know even an elixir wouldn’t save him right now. If you want to save him, you know what that means. There’s only one way.”

“We can’t,” was the immediate reply, but he didn’t sound as certain as he usually did.

“Why not?”

A soft, defeated sound. “Only the king-”

“No, don’t give me that,” the first voice cut off. His tone was harsh, but not cruel, and the next words were tinged with a desperate need to make the other person understand. “I actually did the reading for once. The ritual only requires that it be conducted by someone of royal blood. Which, hello.”

“It’s too dangerous,” was the response, but the protest was weak. That too was wrong. He knew that, even if he couldn’t remember why.

“For you, sure.” The voice was casual, but it wasn’t real, as was made clear by how deadly serious the next words were. “But it’s your choice. You have to decide.”

The hands holding him tightened painfully again, although given that his guts were exposed and he had lost most of his blood and then some, it was the least of his concerns as he tried to hold onto this world for just long enough to hear Ignis – _Ignis_ , he knew that voice, he knew that person, he _knew_ him – say with no uncertainty, “Yes. Do it.”

Do _what_ , he wanted to ask, but give how hard it was just to think that question, it was impossible to say it out loud. One hand joined the ones already on him, while the other reached out to take his left hand. He could barely feel the touch, his nerves shutting down one by one.

Still, he could hear this, as the first voice said, “Promise me one thing, Specs?” The voice sounded impossibly young, and for some reason he remembered holding a girl in his arms, fragile and too good for this world. “You’ll stay by my side?”

There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation. “Always.”

A sad laugh. “You know that’s exactly what you’re giving up, right?”

He didn’t hear the answer to that. He didn’t hear much of anything, as the shadows covered the edge of his vision, somehow turning the world even darker despite his eyes already being closed. But before it could overtake his senses completely, it began to dissipate, as gentle blue light passed through it, not so much piercing the darkness but easing it out of the way, like the sun rising to start a new day. He could feel his heart pounding, not too fast and not too slow, and when he breathed in deep he no longer smelled blood but the faint scent of the sylleblossoms that his father used to braid into his mother’s hair.

Gladio opened his eyes to stare at the person who made him feel the way his parents surely had whenever they looked at each other, the deep adoration that transcended even death. “Hey,” he said weakly, and despite feeling utterly exhausted, nothing would stop him from reaching up to touch a pale cheek. “We really got to stop meeting like this.”

Ignis’s smile was small but breathtaking. “I concur entirely.”

* * *

“So,” Prompto said, as they sat around a campfire. “What exactly happened?”

That’s what Gladio wanted to know too, although he hadn’t had the chance to ask before with Ignis fussing over him. He could understand why the fae was so worried, as he tried not to shudder at the memory of how close to death he had been ( _again_ ), how he’d started to lose everything as his life had bled from him. But he’d be lying if he pretended that the _how_ hadn’t been eating away at him the entire time the others had set up the camp. Ignis, of course, had refused to let him help, even though it quickly became clear that Gladio was the only one who had ever camped before.

Still, they’d eventually managed to get a fire going, thanks to one of Ignis’s fire spells.

Gladio looked expectantly at Ignis, waiting for him to launch into a three-hour long explanation that would almost certainly include footnotes and diagrams. Luckily for all of them, Noct beat him to it. “He gave him half his life.”

There was a long silence as the humans in the group contemplated this decidedly unhelpful explanation, before Prompto sputtered, “Uh … what?”

“An ancient ritual,” Ignis cut in smoothly, not quite looking at Gladio as he focused on toasting bread that the prince had pulled out from who knows where, and looked so stale that he wouldn’t be surprised if it was baked before Noct had gone into the Crystal. “Prior to the war, fae and human relationships were, while not common, at least acceptable. But one of the problems with such relations was the disparity in lifetimes. As our mad friend so aptly demonstrated, a fae can live for millennia longer than a human, but what is the point of that if the ones they loved would wither before their very eyes? To that end, the ritual was developed, so that a fae could share their lifespan with a human. It would halve the remaining potential life of a fae, and gift it to the human of their choosing, along with other attributes.”

“Such as?” Prompto prodded.

Noct yawned widely, once again looking more like a teenage brat who had woken up from a nap than some mystical king chosen by the gods to save the world from a cursed fae. “What you’d expect, mostly. A longer life, enhanced healing… increased strength most likely, but probably no magic, I guess.”

Ignis sighed, looking like he was starting to develop a headache. “Please don’t flaunt your ignorance so cheerfully, highness.”

“Whatever,” Noctis replied. “It’s been centuries since anyone has given up their lives. It’s been centuries since anyone would have wanted to, what with this war going on.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Ignis reminded him mildly, and the prince quieted immediately. Prompto looked confused, but Gladio knew exactly what they were talking about. Ignis’s parents, executed for the crime of being together, and Noct’s father, the king who had ordered their deaths. Most people wouldn’t be able to forgive something like that, would probably have ended up like Ardyn, insane with the need for revenge against people who weren’t even involved. But not Ignis, who was now handing over the flame-toasted bread to Noct, who in turn took it with obvious reluctance. Gladio had a feeling it wasn’t just because of how unappetizing it looked, although it definitely was compared to all the meals that the fae was capable of making.

His heart jumped as he watched Ignis, who had started toasting a second piece with an intensity that was usually reserved for the battlefield. Hearing him before, the explanation had been so clinical that he hadn’t actually connected it to his situation. Or really, to _their_ situation. Because apparently this ritual that he had described so calmly had not only saved his life but extended it, and the cost of that had been _half of Ignis’s life_. The realization was overwhelming. This wasn’t like the last time, when the fae had given up his bed and let Gladio in his life. This wasn’t even like his betrayal, when he’d put Ignis’s life in danger. Ignis had gone so much further than he could have expected from anyone, cutting his own life in half to give to Gladio so that he would not only live, but to allow them to have a life _together_.

Presumably. It was hard to tell when Ignis still couldn’t bring himself to look at him.

The silence had long gone from uncomfortable to plain unbearable, what with Noct trying to avoid anything to do with Ignis’s parents and his father’s role in it, and Ignis actually avoiding anything to do with Gladio period. It was why everyone was so openly relieved when Prompto took the initiative to speak.

“Is that why Lord Am… I mean, Gladio healed so fast? Because you two didn’t heal that fast,” he pointed out, gesturing at the bruises and cuts that still peppered the two fae.

“Yeah, well,” Noct muttered, looking like a guilty child who had snipped off all the roses to give to his sister, and obviously he was not speaking from experience. “I might have thrown in some healing magic. It wouldn’t have been enough on its own, but weaved into the ritual itself-”

Ignis looked torn between being grateful and outraged. “ _Noct_.”

“What?” the prince replied, looking up at the other fae, his expression defiant. “Did you seriously think I was going to let you give up half your life only for him to bleed out anyway? If you thought that, you don’t know me at all. But since you do, maybe just say thanks and move on?”

“That was reckless,” Ignis snapped back, clearly deciding to settle for outrage. “You’ve just come out of the Crystal and fought with the Accursed, and you needed to-”

“Specs,” Noct said, sounding like he just wasn’t capable of having this argument now, or ever again really. “Can’t you for once pretend to care for yourself as much as I do?”

Ignis’s mouth was still open, ready to unleash a stinging remark, but as the words sunk in the fae clearly found himself unable to say anything. It was an almost embarrassing sight, to see Ignis rendered so speechless when normally he knew exactly the right thing to say, so in an effort to spare the guy, Gladio decided to speak up for himself.

“Hey Noct,” he said, and the prince turned to him, scowling at the familiarity with which he used his name. He ignored it because Noct was about to get a hell of a lot more annoyed with him soon. “You going to hold me to that oath?”

Both Ignis and Prompto had matching expressions of confusion, and Noct just looked betrayed that he would even bring it up. He tried to brush it off though, shrugging like it wasn’t important. “Nah. We didn’t even go into the town, so there’s no need for any of that.”

“What oath?” Ignis asked sharply.

“It’s not important,” Noct replied a little too quickly, causing the other fae’s lips to tighten into a deep, disapproving frown that suggested they were going to be having a very long talk in the _very_ near future. Judging from Noct’s grimace, it was a look he was very familiar with, and which never ended well for him. In a transparent attempt to change the subject, Noct said, “But you know, speaking of oaths, I could use a new shield. I mean, I did save your life, and you’re obviously good at throwing yourself in front of pointy objects.”

“That is hardly the only qualification for being a shield to the royal family,” Ignis interjected, and clearly that headache of his was getting worse. “Gladio, please feel free to ignore everything he is saying. The battle has obviously taken a toll on his sanity.”

“I’m just saying,” Noct said, before his eyes narrowed, looking back and forth between Ignis and Gladio. Gladio braced himself, not sure what to expect next, if the prince was going to change his mind about the agreement they’d made. Even though Noct had sounded sincere before, and he _had_ in fact thrown himself in front of the brat and saved his life, it didn’t change what had happened, that Ignis had…. _You were dying_ , Noct had meant to say, because even though he was three-fourths through the door to the other side, he remembered the conversation they’d had right next to him. Ignis had nearly died and it was because of him. Maybe he’d saved Noct in the end, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have his own reasons for it either, making sure Ardyn died and hopefully taking the war with him. Besides, Ignis had paid any supposed debt back by giving him half his life, so how could he ask anything else of the fae?

But whatever Noct was thinking, apparently it wasn’t that as the prince suddenly stood up, striding over to Prompto and dragging the blond up. “Hey Prompto. Let’s get some more firewood.”

“More firewood?” Prompto said, his gaze drifting to the pile of cut wood stacked right behind Ignis, nearly up to the fae’s shoulders. But he got with the program quickly, nodding with an enthusiasm usually reserved for young children and overexcited chocobo chicks. “Rightttt, more firewood. I’m down with that.”

Ignis, however, was not down with anything. “You shouldn’t be going out there on your own-”

“Stop worrying already. Remember, Prompto shot Ardyn from a few hundred feet out-”

“Only because he was too busy monologuing at Gladio to avoid it,” Prompto interrupted unhelpfully.

“-and I just killed a two-thousand year old menace to the world, not to mention I still have the power of the gods at my disposal. I think we’ll be _fine_ ,” Noct said, punctuating his point with an expectant look at Gladio’s direction.

Gladio raised an eyebrow in response, and Noct just stared at him, until he rolled his eyes and grunted, “Let them go. If there really is something out there that can take those two out, then they probably deserve it.”

“The opinion of someone who nearly got himself killed several times in one day is hardly reassuring,” Ignis retorted, but it was the last-ditch protest of someone who knew he had already lost. “Fine. But you _will_ call for help if needed.”

Noct didn’t even bother with a response, immediately trying to haul Prompto into the forest before the other fae could change his mind. He audibly groaned when Ignis said, “Noct?”

“Yeah, Specs?” he replied, turning with obvious reluctance.

But instead of that judgmental frown he was expecting, Ignis’s expression was carefully neutral as he said, “Thank you.”

This time, it was Noct’s turn to stand there with his mouth open, looking like a fish who had just been pulled out of the water. Prompto was there to save him though, as he poked the prince in the side. “Come on, Noct. Let’s go get that… uh, firewood.”

Gladio didn’t even know why they were bothering with keeping up the act. Hell, if they actually did bring back any firewood, Gladio would eat his greatsword. He knew exactly what those two were up to, and Ignis did as well, if he was to guess from the way the fae continued to studiously avoid looking in his direction. But like it or not, they were going to have that conversation that Ignis had promised him after they had kissed, although where to even begin?

“So,” he said awkwardly when Noct’s and Prompto’s footsteps had disappeared completely, leaving them with the crackle of fire and the sound of crickets. “Has anyone ever told you that your brother is an asshole?”

That drew a startled laugh from Ignis, who shook his head. “No one has ever needed to.”

“Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you but he is,” Gladio said. “Now I know why you were so worried about the gods frying him to a crisp in the Crystal.”

“He does what needs to be done,” Ignis said, and Gladio couldn’t help but grin at how even now, he tried to defend his prince’s honor.

But the smile eventually faded as he leaned forward, causing his side to throb relentlessly despite having been healed by the fae’s sacrifice. It was a sacrifice he didn’t know that he deserved, and hell, he was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Did Ignis regret it, giving up half his life to save a human who had already betrayed him? Could Ignis ever trust him again? Could he ever _forgive_ him? So many questions, but he didn’t know where to start, so he just said, “Look. About what I said….”

“Gladiolus.” Shit, back to this again. “I apologize for making the decision without you. But rest assured that I don’t have any expectations of you. You certainly don’t have any obligations to me. The ritual is complete and you are not required to stay by my side to retain its effects. You are more than free to return to your town and your family, and-”

“Iggy,” he had to interrupt because now he knew how Noct had felt, when he’d begged the fae to think of himself for a change. “You’re brilliant, you really are, but you can be so fucking dense sometimes.” He stared at Ignis, willing the guy to look at him, and felt his heart race when green eyes finally did. “I meant it. I always will. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but really, I meant what I said.”

“Gladio….”

“You don’t have to say it back,” he said quickly, as it was his turn to look away. Which was true. Ignis had given him half his life, with no strings attached, and if that wasn’t enough, then he didn’t know what was. “I just needed you to know is all because you deserve that, at least. You deserve to know how wonderful you are.”

He felt the hand slip into his before he even realized that Ignis had moved towards him, and he turned to stare at the fae, only to end up having his mouth pressed against warm lips. This time, there was no blood or potion to get in the way, but only Ignis. His right hand tightened around the fae’s, while his other hand reached up to rest against that slender neck so that he could feel Ignis’s pulse quickening in desire, as the fae deepened the kiss. But there was no desperation there, not even when the fae settled onto his lap to get as close to him as possible. This wasn’t like the last times, spurred by the fear of being torn away from each other.

This time, it was a promise of the days and years to come.

“Of course I love you too,” Ignis said when they finally broke apart. “Even if you are an uncouth idiot at times.”

Gladio laughed, lacing their fingers together as surely as their lives were now intertwined with each other’s. “You just had to ruin the moment, didn’t you?”

“It is my duty, if Noct’s complaining is anything to judge by,” Ignis replied. “But do not fear. We’ll have plenty more moments to ruin in the future.”

The future. For years, he’d always assumed that all that waited for him was a short life of violence and at best a glorious death, taking down as many of the enemy as he could. He’d never have thought of a future like this, of seriously considering going into the service of the fae prince, of doing what he could to truly end this war and bring about peace. He’d never imagined having someone like Ignis by his side, for a lifetime that would span centuries, not just brief moments.

He’d never have believed that a moment of kindness saving an anak calf would give him all of this.

He closed his hand around Ignis’s, and lifted it up to kiss the fine fingers. “And I’m going to enjoy spending every one of those moments with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some absolutely breathtaking art of the scene between Gladio and Ignis after Ardyn's attack, please check out [this beautiful piece](https://recipeh-for-success.tumblr.com/post/175152980010/so-ive-been-head-over-heels-for-this-beautiful) by the incredible Recipeh_for_Success. Thank you again!!
> 
> And for a fun, lighter art of the oh-so-special relationship between Gladio and Ignis, there's [this hilarious piece](https://ffxv-trash-can.tumblr.com/post/175452677256/well-i-okay-you-know-what-im-not-even-sorry) by ffxv-trash-can. Thank you so much!
> 
> One of my greatest weaknesses (besides coherent writing, action sequences, romance, and not throwing in all the angst every two sentences) is story titles, but the title for this story was always based on Ignis giving Gladio half his life, not his half-human, half-fae heritage.
> 
> Regarding Prompto, I feel that his motivation in this story is pretty nebulous, which is a product of his limited interaction with Gladio. I actually do have a backstory that explains him more, which I am seriously considering writing as a side-story/sequel ~~because I spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking about this despite knowing it would never show up in the story~~. I’m not sure if I’ll manage it because I have a truly unfortunate track-record for writing sequels, but it’s definitely on my ideas list.
> 
> With that, thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read, kudo, or comment! I can only hope you enjoyed reading this story nearly as much as I loved writing it. All of the support has been so wonderful, so thank you again for joining me!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! My goal is my usual Thursday updates. For shorter ficlets, deleted scenes, and babbling about writing (or lack thereof), I can be found at http://pikachumaniac.tumblr.com/


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